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diff --git a/old/66239-0.txt b/old/66239-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b5442cc..0000000 --- a/old/66239-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13441 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Collected Works of Henrik Ibsen -Vol. 04 (of 11), by Henrik Ibsen - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Collected Works of Henrik Ibsen Vol. 04 (of 11) - -Author: Henrik Ibsen - -Editor: William Archer - -Contributor: C. H. Herford - -Release Date: September 8, 2021 [eBook #66239] - -Language: English - -Produced by: KD Weeks, Emmanuel Ackerman, Sigal Alon, Eileen Gormly and - the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian - Libraries) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COLLECTED WORKS OF HENRIK -IBSEN VOL. 04 (OF 11) *** - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - Transcriber’s Note: - -This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects. -Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_. In the printed -original, emphasis is indicated by gesperrt (spaced) text, but is here -also delimited as the italic. - -Footnotes have been collected at the end of each section or act in which -they are referenced. - -Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please -see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details regarding -the handling of any other textual issues encountered during its -preparation. - - - - -THE COLLECTED WORKS OF - HENRIK IBSEN - - VOLUME IV - - PEER GYNT - - 1867 - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - THE COLLECTED WORKS OF - HENRIK IBSEN - - _Copyright Edition. Complete in 12 Volumes._ - _Crown 8vo, price 4s. each._ - - =ENTIRELY REVISED AND EDITED BY= - =WILLIAM ARCHER= - - Vol. I. Lady Inger, The Feast at Solhoug, Love’s - Comedy - - Vol. II. The Vikings, The Pretenders - - Vol. III. Brand - - Vol. IV. Peer Gynt - - Vol. V. Emperor and Galilean (2 parts) - - Vol. VI. The League of Youth, Pillars of Society - - Vol. VII. A Doll’s House, Ghosts - - Vol. VIII. An Enemy of the People, The Wild Duck - - Vol. IX. Rosmersholm, The Lady from the Sea - - Vol. X. Hedda Gabler, The Master Builder - - Vol. XI. Little Eyolf, John Gabriel Borkman, When - We Dead Awaken - - Vol. XII. From Ibsen’s Workshop - - LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN - 21 BEDFORD STREET, W.C. - - THE COLLECTED WORKS OF - HENRIK IBSEN - - COPYRIGHT EDITION - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - VOLUME IV - - PEER GYNT - - A DRAMATIC POEM - - TRANSLATED BY - - WILLIAM AND CHARLES ARCHER - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - -[Illustration: title page] - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - LONDON - WILLIAM HEINEMANN - 1912 - - - - - - - - - _Collected Edition, first printed March 1907_ - _New Impressions, April 1909, November, 1912_ - - - - - - - - - _Copyright 1894 by William Heinemann_ - - - - - CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - INTRODUCTION TO “PEER GYNT” vii - _By_ WILLIAM ARCHER - “PEER GYNT” 1 - _Translated by_ WILLIAM AND CHARLES ARCHER - - - - - PEER GYNT. - - - - - INTRODUCTION. - - -The publication of _Brand_, in March 1866, brought Ibsen fame (in -Scandinavia) and relieved him from the immediate pressure of poverty. -Two months later the Storthing voted him a yearly “poet-pension” of £90; -and with this sum, as he wrote to the Minister who had been mainly -instrumental in furthering his claim, he felt “his future assured,” so -that he could henceforth “devote himself without hindrance to his -calling.” This first glimpse of worldly prosperity, no doubt, brought -with it the lighter mood which distinguishes _Peer Gynt_ from its -predecessor. To call it the gayest of Ibsen’s works is not, perhaps, to -say very much. Its satire, indeed, is bitter enough; but it is not the -work of an unhappy man. The character of Peer Gynt, and many of his -adventures, are conceived with unmistakable gusto. Some passages even -bear witness to an exuberance of animal spirits which reminds one of Ben -Jonson’s saying with regard to Shakespeare—“aliquando sufflaminandus -erat.” - -The summer of 1866 Ibsen spent at Frascati, in the Palazzo Gratiosi, -where he lived “most comfortably and cheaply.” He found Frascati and -Tusculum “indescribably delightful.” From the windows of his study he -could see Soracte, “rising isolated and beautiful from the level of the -immense plain ... the battlefield where the chief engagement in the -world’s history took place.” So he writes in a letter to Paul -Botten-Hansen, and immediately afterwards proceeds: “I shall soon be -setting to work in good earnest. I am still wrestling with my subject, -but I know that I shall get the upper hand of the brute before long, and -then everything will go smoothly.” But was the play here referred to -_Peer Gynt_? Perhaps not. From a letter to his publisher, Hegel, written -three months later, we learn that at that time he was still turning over -several themes in his mind, and that one of them dealt with the period -of Christian IV. of Denmark. It is in a letter to Hegel, dated from -Rome, January 5, 1867, that we find the first unmistakable reference to -_Peer Gynt_: “Now I must tell you that my new work is well under way, -and will, if nothing untoward happens, be finished early in the summer. -It is to be a long dramatic poem, having as its chief figure one of the -Norwegian peasantry’s half-mythical, fantastic heroes of _recent_ times. -It will bear no resemblance to _Brand_, contain no direct polemics and -so forth. I have long had the subject in my thoughts; now the entire -plan is worked out and written down, and the first act begun. The thing -grows as I work at it, and I am certain that you will be satisfied with -it.” - -Two months later (March 8) the poem has “advanced to the middle of the -second act.” On August 8, he sends to Hegel, from Villa Pisani, -Casamicciola, Ischia, the complete manuscript of the first three acts, -and writes: “I am curious to hear how you like the poem. I am very -hopeful myself. It may interest you to know that Peer Gynt is a real -person, who lived in Gudbrandsdal, probably at the end of last, or -beginning of this, century; but of his exploits not much more is known -than is to be found in Asbjörnsen’s _Norwegian Fairy Tales_, in the -section _Pictures from the Mountains_. Thus I have not had very much to -build upon; but so much the more liberty has been left me. It would -interest me to know what Clemens Petersen thinks of the work.” What -Clemens Petersen did think we shall presently learn. - -On October 18 Ibsen despatched from Sorrento the remainder of his -manuscript, and the book was published on November 14. It has often been -pointed out (by myself among others) as a very remarkable fact that two -such gigantic creations as _Brand_ and _Peer Gynt_ should have been -given to the world in two successive years; but on examination the -marvel somewhat dwindles. _Peer Gynt_ did not follow so hot-foot upon -_Brand_ as the bare dates of publication would lead us to suppose. -_Brand_ was written in the summer of 1865, _Peer Gynt_ (as we have seen) -in 1867; so that the poet’s mind had lain fallow for a whole year (1866) -between the two great efforts. It was a long delay in the publication of -_Brand_ that made its successor seem to tread so close upon its heels. - -One or two other references to the origin of _Peer Gynt_ may be found in -Ibsen’s letters. The most important occurs in an autobiographical -communication to Peter Hansen, dated Dresden, October 28, 1870: “After -_Brand_ came _Peer Gynt_, as though of itself. It was written in -Southern Italy, in Ischia and at Sorrento. So far away from one’s -readers one becomes reckless. This poem contains much that has its -origin in the circumstances of my own youth. My own mother—with the -necessary exaggerations—served as the model for Ase. (Likewise for Inga -in _The Pretenders_).” Twelve years later (1882) Ibsen wrote to George -Brandes: “My father was a merchant with a large business and wide -connections, and he enjoyed dispensing reckless hospitality. In 1836 he -failed, and nothing was left to us except a farm near the town.... In -writing _Peer Gynt_, I had the circumstances and memories of my own -childhood before me when I described the life in the house of ‘the rich -Jon Gynt.’” - -Returning to the above-quoted letter to Peter Hansen, we find this -further allusion to _Peer Gynt_ and its immediate predecessor and -successor in the list of Ibsen’s works: “Environment has great influence -upon the forms in which imagination creates. May I not, like Christoff -in _Jakob von Tyboe_,[1] point to _Brand_ and _Peer Gynt_, and say: -‘See, the wine-cup has done this?’ And is there not something in _The -League of Youth_ [written in Dresden] that suggests ‘Knackwurst und -Bier’? Not that I would thereby imply any inferiority in the latter -play.” The transition to prose was no doubt an inevitable step in the -evolution of Ibsen’s genius; but one wishes he had kept to the -“wine-cup” a little longer. - -A masterpiece is not a flawless work, but one which has sufficient -vitality to live down its faults, until at last we no longer heed, and -almost forget, them. _Peer Gynt_ had real faults, not a few; and its -great merit, as some of us think—its magnificent, reckless profusion of -fantasy—could not but be bewildering to its first critics, who had to -pronounce upon it before they had (as Ballested[2] would put it) -acclimatised themselves to its atmosphere. It’s reception, then, was -much more dubious than that of _Brand_ had been. We find even George -Brandes writing of it: “What great and noble powers are wasted on this -thankless material! Except in the fourth act, which has no connection -with what goes before and after, and is witless in its satire, crude in -its irony, and in its latter part scarcely comprehensible, there is -almost throughout a wealth of poetry and a depth of thought such as we -do not find, perhaps, in any of Ibsen’s earlier works.... It would be -unjust to deny that the book contains great beauties, or that it tells -us all, and Norwegians in particular, some important truths; but -beauties and truths are of far less value than beauty and truth in the -singular, and Ibsen’s poem is neither beautiful nor true. Contempt for -humanity and self-hatred make a bad foundation on which to build a -poetic work. What an unlovely and distorting view of life this is! What -acrid pleasure can a poet find in thus sullying human nature?”[3] The -friendship between Brandes and Ibsen was at this time just beginning, -and—much to Ibsen’s credit—it appears to have suffered no check by -reason of this outspoken pronouncement. - -On the other hand, he deeply resented a criticism by Clemens Petersen, -who seems to have been at this time regarded as the æsthetic lawgiver of -Copenhagen. Why he should have done so is not very clear; for Petersen -professed to prefer _Peer Gynt_ to _Brand_, and his criticism on _Brand_ -Ibsen had apparently accepted without demur. Most of Petersen’s article -is couched in a very heavy philosophic idiom; but the following extract, -though it refers chiefly to _Brand_, may convey some idea of his general -objection to both poems:—“When a poet, as Ibsen does in _Brand_, depicts -an error, a one-sidedness, which is from first to last presented in an -imposing light, it is not sufficient that he should eventually, through -a piece of sensational symbolism, let that one-sidedness go to ruin, and -it is not sufficient that in the last word of the drama[4] he should -utter the name of that with which the one-sidedness should have blended -in order to become truth. If he throughout his work shows us this -error—in virtue of its strength, if for no other reason—justifying -itself as against everything that comes in contact with it, then it is -not only in the character depicted that something is lacking, but in the -work of art itself. That something is the Ideal, without which the work -of art cannot take rank as poetry—the Ideal which here, as so often in -art, lies only in the lighting of the picture, but which is nevertheless -the saving, the uplifting element. It is to poetry what devotion is to -religion.... In _Peer Gynt_, as in _Brand_, the ideal is lacking. But -this must be said rather less strongly of _Peer Gynt_. There is more -fantasy, more real freedom of spirit, less strain and less violence in -this poem than in _Brand_.” The critic then speaks of _Peer Gynt_ as -being “full of riddles which are insoluble, because there is nothing in -them at all.” Peer’s identification of the Sphinx with the Boyg (Act IV. -Sc. 12) he characterises as “Tankesvindel”—thought-swindling, or, as we -might say, juggling with thought. The general upshot of his -considerations is that _Peer Gynt_ belongs, with Goldschmidt’s -_Corsaren_, to the domain of polemical journalism. It “is not poetry, -because in the transmutation of reality into art it falls half-way short -of the demands both of art and of reality.” - -Petersen’s review is noteworthy, not for its own sake, but for the -effect it produced on Ibsen. His letters to Björnson on the subject are -the most vivid and spontaneous he ever wrote. Björnson happened to be in -Copenhagen when Petersen’s article appeared in _Fœdrelandet_, and Ibsen -seems somehow to have blamed him for not preventing its appearance. “All -I reproach you with,” he says, “is inaction.” But Petersen he accuses of -lack of “loyalty,” of “an intentional crime against truth and justice.” -“There is a lie involved in Clemens Petersen’s article, not in what he -says, but in what he refrains from saying. And he intentionally refrains -from saying a great deal.... Tell me, now, is Peer Gynt himself not a -personality, complete and individual? _I_ know that he is. And the -mother; is she not?” But the most memorable passage in this memorable -letter is the following piece of splendid arrogance: “My book _is_ -poetry; and if it is not, then it will be. The conception of poetry in -our country, in Norway, shall be made to conform to the book.” It -certainly seems that any definition of poetry which should be so framed -as to exclude _Peer Gynt_ must have something of what Petersen himself -called “Tankesvindel” about it. - -Ibsen’s burst of indignation relieved his mind, and three weeks later we -find him writing, half apologetically, of the “cargo of nonsense” he had -“shipped off” to Björnson, immediately on reading Petersen’s review. He -even sends a friendly “greeting” to the offending critic. But this is -his last (published) letter to Björnson for something like fifteen -years. How far the reception of _Peer Gynt_ may have contributed to the -breach between them, I do not know. Björnson’s own criticism of the -poem, as we shall presently see, was very favourable. - -_Peer Gynt_ was not, on its appearance, quite so popular as Brand. A -second edition was called for in a fortnight; but the third edition did -not appear until 1874, by which time the seventh edition of _Brand_ was -already on the market. Before the end of the century ten editions of -_Peer Gynt_ had appeared in Copenhagen as against fourteen of _Brand_. -The first German translation appeared in 1881, and the present English -translation in 1892. A French translation, by Count Prozor, appeared in -the _Nouvelle Revue_ in 1896, but does not seem to have been published -in book form. - -After a great deal of discussion as to the stage-arrangement, _Peer -Gynt_, largely abbreviated, was produced, with Edvard Grieg’s now famous -incidental music, at the Christiania Theatre in February 1876, Henrik -Klausen playing the title-part. It was acted thirty-seven times; but a -fire which destroyed some of the scenery put a stop to the performances. -In 1892, at the same theatre, the first three acts were revived, with -Björn Björnson as Peer, and repeated fifty times. In the repertory of -the National Theatre, too (opened in 1899), _Peer Gynt_ has taken a -prominent place. It was first given in 1902, and has up to the present -(1906) been performed eighty-four times. In the version which has -established itself on the Norwegian stage, all five acts are given, but -the fourth and fifth acts are greatly abbreviated. In the season of 1886 -the play was produced at the Dagmar Theatre, Copenhagen. August -Lindberg’s Swedish Company acted it in Gothenburg in 1892, in Stockholm -in 1895, and afterwards toured with it in Norway and Sweden. Count -Prozor’s translation was acted by “L’Œuvre” at the Nouveau Théâtre, -Paris, in November, 1896, of which remarkable production a lively -account by Mr. Bernard Shaw may be found in the _Saturday Review_ of -that period. At the Deutsches Volkstheater in Vienna, in May 1902, two -performances of _Peer Gynt_ were given by the “Akademisch-Litterarische -Verein.” I can find no record of any other German production of the -play. The first production in the English language took place at the -Grand Opera House, Chicago, on October 29, 1906, when Mr. Richard -Mansfield appeared as Peer Gynt. Mr. Mansfield would seem to have acted -the greater part of the play, but to have omitted the Sæter-Girl scene -and the madhouse scene. - -We have seen that the name, Peer Gynt, was suggested to Ibsen by a -folk-tale in Asbjörnsen and Moe’s invaluable collection. It is one of a -group of tales entitled _Reindeer-Hunting in the Rondë Hills_;[5] and in -the same group occurs the adventure of Gudbrand Glesnë on the -Gendin-Edge, which Peer Gynt works up so unblushingly in Act I. Sc. 1. -The text of both these tales will be found in the Appendix, and the -reader will recognise how very slight are the hints which set the poet’s -imagination to work. The encounter with the Sæter-Girls (Act II. Sc. 3) -and the struggle with the Boyg (Act II. Sc. 7) are foreshadowed in -Asbjörnsen, and the concluding remark of Anders Ulsvolden evidently -suggested to Ibsen the idea of incarnating Fantasy in Peer Gynt, as in -Brand he had given us incarnate Will. But the Peer Gynt of the drama has -really nothing in common with the Peer Gynt of the story, and the rest -of the characters are not even remotely suggested. Many scattered traits -and allusions, however, are borrowed from other legends in the same -storehouse of grotesque and marvellous imaginings. Thus the story of the -devil in a nutshell (Act I. Sc. 3) figures in Asbjörnsen under the title -of _The Boy and the Devil_.[6] The appearance of the Green-Clad One with -her Ugly Brat, who offers Peer Gynt a goblet of beer (Act III. Sc. 3), -is obviously suggested by an incident in _Berthe Tuppenhaug’s -Stories_.[7] Old Berthe, too, supplies the idea of correcting Peer -Gynt’s eyesight according to the standard of the hill-trolls (Act II. -Sc. 6), as well as the germ of the fantastic thread-ball episode in the -last Act (Sc. 6). The castle, “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” -(Act III. Sc. 4), gives its title to one of Asbjörnsen’s stories,[8] -which may be read in English in Mr. Andrew Lang’s _Blue Fairy Book_; and -“Soria Moria Castle” is the title of another legend.[9] Herr Passarge -(in his _Henrik Ibsen_, Leipzig, 1883) goes so far as to trace the idea -of Peer Gynt’s shrinking from the casting-ladle, even though hell be the -alternative (Act V. Sc. 7, &c.), to Asbjörnsen’s story of _The Smith -whom they Dared not let into Hell_;[10] but the circumstances are so -different, and Ibsen’s idea is such an inseparable part of the ethical -scheme of the drama, that we can scarcely take it to have been suggested -by this (or any other) individual story.[11] At the same time there is -no doubt that _The Folk-Lore of Peer Gynt_ might form the subject of a -much more extended study than our space or our knowledge admits of.[12] -The whole atmosphere of the first three acts and of the fifth is that of -the Norwegian Folk and Fairy Tales. It must be remembered, too, that in -the early ’sixties Ibsen was commissioned by the Norwegian Government to -visit Romsdal and Söndmöre for the purpose of collecting folk-songs and -legends. To these journeys, no doubt, we are mainly indebted for the -local colour of _Brand_ and _Peer Gynt_. - -What are we to say now of the drift, the interpretation of _Peer Gynt_? -The first and most essential thing may be said in Ibsen’s own words. On -February 24, 1868, he wrote from Rome to Frederik Hegel: “I learn that -the book has created much excitement in Norway. This does not trouble me -in the least; but both there and in Denmark they have discovered much -more satire in it than was intended by me. Why can they not read the -book as a poem? For as such I wrote it. The satirical passages are -tolerably isolated. But if the Norwegians of the present time recognise -themselves, as it would appear they do, in the character of Peer Gynt, -that is the good people’s own affair.” In the last sentence the -innocence of intention is, no doubt, a little overdone; but there is -still less doubt that Ibsen was absolutely sincere in declaring that he -wrote it primarily as a poem, a work of pure imagination, and that as a -work of pure imagination it ought primarily to be read. There is -undeniably an undercurrent of ethical and satirical meaning in the play; -but no one can properly enjoy or value it who is not swept along -irresistibly by the surface stream of purely poetic invention and -delineation. Peer himself is a character-creation on the heroic scale, -as vital a personality as Falstaff or Don Quixote. It is here that the -poem (as Clemens Petersen vaguely discerned) has a marked advantage over -its predecessor. In spite of the tremendous energy with which he is -depicted, Brand remains an abstraction or an attitude, rather than a -human being. But Peer Gynt is human in every fibre—too human to be alien -to any one of us. We know him, we understand him, we love him—for who -does not love a genial, imaginative, philosophic rascal? As for his -adventures and vicissitudes, if they do not give us pleasure in and for -themselves, quite apart from any symbolic sub-intention—just as the -adventures of Sindbad, or Gil Blas, or Tom Jones, or Huckleberry Finn -give us pleasure—then assuredly the poem does not affect us as Ibsen -intended that it should. Readers who approach it for the first time may -therefore be counselled to pay no heed to its ethical or political -meanings, and to take it as it comes, simply as a dramatic romance or -phantasmagoria of purely human humour and pathos. Reading it in this -way, they will naturally find a good deal that seems obscure and -arbitrary; but much of this will be cleared up on a second reading, by -the aid of such sidelights as this Introduction can afford. No assiduity -of study, however, can find in _Peer Gynt_ a clear, consistent, -cut-and-dried allegory, with a place for everything and everything in -its place. It is not an allegory, but (as aforesaid) a phantasmagory. -This is what the early critics did not realise. They quarrelled with it -for the very luxuriance of its invention, the buoyant irrepressible -whimsicality of its humour, the shimmering iridescence of its style. -They stood before an “undulant and diverse” carnival-pageant, and -grumbled because it would not fit into any recognised form, sanctioned -by their preconceived æsthetic principles. - -I am far from maintaining that the reckless, elusive capriciousness of -the poem is an unmixed merit. It would probably have done no harm if, -after the first rapture of composition had died away, Ibsen had gone -over it and pruned it a little here and there. I can by no means endorse -the critics’ sweeping condemnation of the fourth act, which contains -some of the most delightful passages in the whole poem; but the first -scene of this act is unquestionably shallow in conception and diffuse in -style—a piece of satiric journalism rather than of literature. The -concluding scenes of the last act, too, would certainly have been none -the worse of a little compression. The auction scene (Act V. Sc. 4), -though it has a sort of fantastic impressiveness, seems to me hopelessly -baffling in its relation both to the outward story and to the inner -significance of the poem. Here, and perhaps at some half-dozen other -points, one may admit that Ibsen appears to have let his fancy run away -with him; but the inert, excessive, or utterly enigmatic passages in -_Peer Gynt_ are surely few and brief in comparison with the passages in -_Faust_ to which the same epithets may be applied. On the other hand, -the scenes of poignant and thrilling and haunting poetry are too many to -be severally indicated. The first act, with its inimitable life and -movement, Åse’s death-scene, and the Pastor’s speech in the last act, -are usually cited as the culminating points of the poem; and there can -be no doubt that Åse’s death-scene, at any rate, is one of the supreme -achievements of modern drama.[13] But there are several other scenes -that I would place scarcely, if at all, lower than these. In point of -weird intensity, there is nothing in the poem more marvellous than the -Sæter-Girl scene (Act II. Sc. 3); in point of lyric movement, Peer -Gynt’s repudiation of Ingrid (Act II. Sc. 1) is incomparable; and in -point of sheer beauty and pathos, Solveig’s arrival at the hut (Act III. -Sc. 3), with the whole of the scene that follows, stands supreme.[14] -For my own part, I reckon the shipwreck scenes at the beginning of the -fifth act among the most impressive, as they are certainly not the least -characteristic, in the poem. And, in enumerating its traits of -undeniable greatness, one must by no means forget the character of Åse, -on which Ibsen himself dwelt with justified complacency. There is not a -more life-like creation in the whole range of drama. - -Having now warned the reader against allowing the search for symbolic or -satiric meanings to impair his enjoyment of the pure poetry of _Peer -Gynt_, I may proceed to point out some of the implications which do -indubitably underlie the surface aspects of the poem. These meanings -fall under three heads. First, we have universal-human satire and -symbolism, bearing upon human nature in general, irrespective of race or -nationality. Next we have satire upon Norwegian human nature in -particular, upon the religious and political life of Norway as a nation. -Lastly, we find a certain number of local and ephemeral references—what, -in the slang of our stage, are called “topical allusions.” - -In order to provide the reader with a clue to the complex meanings of -_Peer Gynt_, on its higher lines or planes of significance, I cannot do -better than quote some paragraphs from the admirable summary of the -drama given by Mr. P. H. Wicksteed in his _Four Lectures on Henrik -Ibsen_.[15] Mr. Wicksteed is in such perfect sympathy with Ibsen in the -stage of his development marked by _Brand_ and _Peer Gynt_, that he has -understood these poems, in my judgment, at least as well as any other -commentator, whether German or Scandinavian. He writes as follows: - -“In _Brand_ the hero is an embodied protest against the poverty of -spirit and half-heartedness that Ibsen rebelled against in his -countrymen. In _Peer Gynt_ the hero is himself the embodiment of that -spirit. In _Brand_ the fundamental antithesis, upon which, as its -central theme, the drama is constructed, is the contrast between the -spirit of compromise on the one hand, and the motto ‘everything or -nothing’ on the other. And Peer Gynt is the very incarnation of a -compromising dread of decisive committal to any one course. In _Brand_ -the problem of self-realisation and the relation of the individual to -his surroundings is obscurely struggling for recognition, and in _Peer -Gynt_ it becomes the formal theme upon which all the fantastic -variations of the drama are built up. In both plays alike the problems -of heredity and the influence of early surroundings are more than -touched upon; and both alike culminate in the doctrine that the only -redeeming power on earth or in heaven is the power of love. - -“Peer Gynt, as already stated, stands for the Norwegian people, much as -they are sketched in _Brand_, though with more brightness of colouring. -Hence his perpetual ‘hedging’ and determination never so to commit -himself that he cannot draw back. Hence his fragmentary life of -smatterings. Hence his perpetual brooding over the former grandeur of -his family, his idle dreams of the future, and his neglect of every -present duty. Hence his deep-rooted selfishness and cynical indifference -to all higher motives; and hence, above all, his sordid and -superstitious religion; for to him religion is the apotheosis of the art -of ‘hedging.’ - -“But Ibsen’s allegories are never stiffly or pedantically worked out. -His characters, though typical, are personal. We could read _Brand_, and -could feel the tragedy and learn the lessons of the drama without any -knowledge whatever of the circumstances or feelings under which it was -written, or the references to the Norwegian character and conduct with -which it teems. - -“So, too, with _Peer Gynt_. We may forget the national significance of -the sketch, except where special allusions recall it to our minds, and -may think only of the universal problems with which the poem deals, and -which will retain their awful interest when Ibsen’s polemic against his -countrymen has sunk into oblivion. The study of _Peer Gynt_ as an -occasional poem should be strictly subsidiary and introductory to its -study as the tragedy of a lost soul. - -“What is it to be one’s self? God _meant something_ when he made each -one of us. For a man to embody that meaning of God in his words and -deeds, and so become in his degree a ‘word of God made flesh,’ is to be -himself. But thus to be himself he must slay himself. That is to say, he -must slay the craving to make himself the centre round which others -revolve, and must strive to find his true orbit and swing, self-poised, -round the great central light. But what if a poor devil can never puzzle -out what on earth God _did_ mean when he made him? Why, then, he must -_feel_ it. But how often your ‘feeling’ misses fire! Ay! there you have -it. The devil has no stauncher ally than _want of perception_! [Act V. -Sc. 9.] - -“But, after all, you may generally find out what God meant you for, if -you will face facts. It is easy to find a refuge from facts in lies, in -self-deception, and in self-sufficiency. It is easy to take credit to -yourself for what circumstances have done for you, and lay upon -circumstances what you owe to yourself. It is easy to think you are -realising yourself by refusing to become a ‘pack-horse for the weal and -woe of others’ [Act IV. Sc. 1], keeping alternatives open and never -closing a door behind you or burning your ships, and so always remaining -the master of the situation and self-possessed. If you choose to do -these easy things you may always ‘get round’ your difficulties [Act II. -Sc. 7], but you will never get through them. You will remain master of -the situation indeed, but the situation will become poorer and narrower -every day. If you never commit yourself, you never express yourself, and -yourself becomes less and less significant and decisive. Calculating -selfishness is the annihilation of self.” - -So far Mr. Wicksteed. The general significance of the poem, in the terms -of that theism which may or may not have been Ibsen’s personal creed -during the years of its incubation, could scarcely be better expounded. - -When we come to subsidiary meanings, we must proceed more carefully, for -we have the poet’s own word for it that many have been read into the -poem whereof he never dreamt. For example, in his first letter to -Björnson after reading Clemens Petersen’s criticism, he protested -against that critic’s assumption that the Strange Passenger (Act V. Scs. -1 and 2) was symbolic of “dread.” “If my head had been on the block,” he -said, “and such an explanation would have saved my life, it would never -have occurred to me. I never thought of such a thing. I stuck in the -scene as a mere caprice.” For this element of caprice we must always -allow. The whole fourth act, the poet told the present writer, was an -afterthought, and did not belong to the original scheme of the play. - -Here we come upon the question whether Ibsen consciously designed _Peer -Gynt_ as a counterblast to Björnson’s idyllic peasant-novel, _Synnöve -Solbakken_. This theory, put forward by a judicious French critic, M. -Auguste Ehrhard,[16] among others, has always seemed to me very -far-fetched; but as Dr. Brandes, in the introduction to _Peer Gynt_ in -the German collected edition, appears to give it his sanction, I quote -what he says on the point: “German critics have laid special emphasis on -the fact that Ibsen here placed himself in conscious opposition to -Björnson’s glorification, in his early novels, of the younger generation -of Norwegian peasants. Quarrelsomeness and love of fighting were -represented in Thorbjörn, the hero of _Synnöve Solbakken_, as traits of -the traditional old-Norse viking spirit; in _Arne_ the poetic -proclivities of the people were placed in an engaging light. The vaunted -fisticuff-heroism was, in Ibsen’s view, nothing but rawness, and the -poetic proclivities of Norwegian youth appeared to him, in the last -analysis, simply a very prevalent love of lying and gasconading. The -Norwegians appear in the caricaturing mirror of this brilliant poem as a -people who, in smug contentment, are ‘to themselves enough,’ and -therefore laud everything that is their own, however insignificant it -may be, shrink from all decisive action, and have for their national -vice a tendency to fantastication and braggadocio.” That _Peer Gynt_ is -a counterblast to national romanticism and chauvinism in general there -can of course be no doubt; but I see no reason to suppose that Ibsen had -Björnson’s novels specially in view, or intended anything like a -“caricature” of them. It is pretty clear, too, that Björnson himself had -no such idea in his mind when he reviewed the poem in the _Norsk -Folkeblad_ for November 23, 1867. His long article is almost entirely -laudatory, and certainly shows no smallest sign of hostile party-spirit. -“_Peer Gynt_,” says Björnson, “is a satire upon Norwegian egoism, -narrowness, and self-sufficiency, so executed as to have made me not -only again and again laugh till I was sore, but again and again give -thanks to the author in my heart—as I here do publicly.” Beyond -remarking upon the over-exuberance of detail, and criticising the -versification, Björnson says little or nothing in dispraise of the poem. -On the other hand he says curiously little of its individual beauties. -He never mentions Åse, says nothing of her death-scene, or of the -Pastor’s speech, and picks out as the best thing in the play the -thread-ball scene (Act V. Sc. 6). - -The most obviously satirical passage of the first three acts is the -scene in the Dovrë-King’s palace (Act II. Sc. 6), with its jibe at -Norwegian national vanity: - - The cow gives cakes and the bullock mead, - Ask not if its taste be sour or sweet; - The main matter is, and you mustn’t forget it, - It’s all of it home-brewed. - -Much more difficult is the interpretation of the Boyg,[17] that vague, -shapeless, ubiquitous, inevitable, invulnerable Thing which Peer -encounters in the following scene (Act II. Sc. 7). Ibsen found it in the -folk-tale, and was attracted, no doubt, by the sheer uncanniness and -eerieness of the idea. Neither can one doubt, however, that in his own -mind he attributed to the monster some symbolic signification. Dr. -Brandes would have us see in it the Spirit of Compromise—the same evil -spirit which is assailed in _Brand_. The Swedish critic, Vasenius, -interprets it as Peer Gynt’s own consciousness of his inability to take -a decisive step—to go through an obstacle in place of skirting round it. -Herr Passarge reads in it a symbol of the mass of mankind, _perpetuum -immobile_, opposing its sheer force of inertia to every forward -movement.[18] This would make it nearly equivalent to “the compact -majority” of _An Enemy of the People_; or, looking at it from a slightly -different angle, we might see in the scene an illustration in action of -that despairing cry of Schiller’s Talbot: “Mit der Dummheit kämpfen -Götter selbst vergebens.” The truth probably is that the poet vaguely -intended this vague monster to be as elusive in its symbolism as in its -physical constitution. But when, in Act IV. Sc. 12, he formally -identifies the Boyg with the Sphinx, we may surely conclude that one of -the interpretations present to his mind was metaphysical. In this -aspect, the Boyg would typify the riddle of existence, with which we -grapple in vain, and which we have to “get round” as best we can. - -The fourth act contains a good many special allusions, in addition to -the general, and somewhat crude, satire in the opening scene on the -characteristics of different nationalities, with particular reference to -their conduct in the Dano-German crisis. Peer’s dreams of African -colonisation (Act IV. Sc. 5) are said to refer to certain projects which -Ole Bull had about this time been ventilating. But it is especially in -the madhouse scene (Act IV. Sc. 13) that satiric sallies abound. “The -Fellah with the royal mummy on his back,” says Henrik Jæger,[19] -“is—like Trumpeterstråle—a cut at the Swedes, the mummy being Charles -the Twelfth. Like the Fellah, it is implied, the Swedes are extremely -proud of their ‘Hero-king,’ and yet during the Dano-German war they -showed not the smallest sign of having anything in common with him, -unless it were that they, like him, ‘kept still and completely dead.’ In -the delusion of the minister Hussein, who imagines himself a pen, there -is a general reference to the futile address- and note-mongering which -went on in Norwegian-Swedish officialdom during the Dano-German War, and -a more special one to an eminent Swedish statesman [Grev Manderström], -who, during the war, had been extremely proud of his official notes, and -had imagined that by means of them he might exercise a decisive -influence on the course of events.” - -Most prominent and unmistakable of all the satiric passages, however, is -the attack on the language-reformers in the personage of Huhu. In the -list of characters, Huhu is set down as a “Målstræver from Zanzibar.” -Now the Målstrævers are a party which desires to substitute a language -compounded from the various local dialects, for the Norwegian of the -townsfolk and of literature. This they call Danish, and declare to be -practically a foreign tongue to the peasants, who form the backbone of -the Norwegian nation. Ibsen’s satire, it must be said, has had little or -no effect on the movement, which has gone on slowly but steadily, and -has of late years met with official and legislative recognition. There -is a large and increasing literature in the “Mål”; it is taught in -schools and it is spoken in the Storthing. Where the movement may end it -is hard to say. It must seem to a foreigner, as it seemed to Ibsen, -retrograde and obscurantist; but there is doubtless some genuine impulse -behind it which the foreigner cannot appreciate. - -The principles which have guided us in the following transcript demand a -few words of explanation. _Peer Gynt_ is written from first to last in -rhymed verse. Six or eight different measures are employed in the -various scenes, and the rhymes are exceedingly rich and complex. The -frequency of final light syllables in Norwegian implies an exceptional -abundance of double rhymes, and Ibsen has taken full advantage of this -peculiarity. In the short first scene of the second act, for example, -twenty-five out of the forty lines end in double rhymes, and there are -three double-rhymed triplets. The tintinnabulation of these double -rhymes, then, gives to most of the scenes a metrical character which it -might puzzle Mr. Swinburne himself to reproduce in English. Moreover, -the ordinary objections to rhymed translations seemed to apply with -exceptional force in the case of _Peer Gynt_. The characteristic quality -of its style is its vernacular ease and simplicity. It would have been -heart-breaking work (apart from its extreme difficulty) to substitute -for this racy terseness the conventional graces of English poetic -diction, padding here and perverting there. To a prose translation, on -the other hand, the objections seemed even greater. It is possible to -give in prose some faint adumbration of epic dignity; but we had here no -epic to deal with. We found (though the statement may at first seem -paradoxical) that the same vernacular simplicity of style which forbade -a translation in rhyme, was no less hostile to a translation in prose. -The characteristic quality of the poet’s achievement lay precisely in -his having, by the aid of rhythm and rhyme, transfigured the most easy -and natural dialogue, without the least sacrifice of its naturalness. -Entirely to eliminate these graces of form would have been to reduce the -poem to prose indeed. It seemed little better than casting a silver -statue into the crucible and asking the world to divine from the ingot -something of the sculptor’s power. A prose translation, in short, could -not but strip Fantasy of its pinions, rob Satire of its barbs. The poet -himself, moreover, expressly declared that he would rather let _Peer -Gynt_ remain untranslated than see it rendered in prose. After a good -deal of reflection and experiment, we finally suggested to him a middle -course between prose and rhyme: a translation as nearly as possible in -the metres of the original, but with the rhymes suppressed. To this -compromise he assented, and the following pages are the result. - -We had no precedent—within our knowledge, at any rate—to guide us, and -were forced to lay down our own laws. Even at the risk of falling -between two stools, we proposed to ourselves a dual purpose. We sought -to produce a translation which should convey to the general reader some -faint conception of the movement and colour, the wit and pathos, of the -original, and at the same time a transcript which should serve the -student as a “crib” to the Norwegian text. This, then, the reader must -be good enough to bear in mind: that the following version is designed -to facilitate, not to supersede, the study of the original. But, apart -from our desire to provide a “crib” to _Peer Gynt_, we felt that, in -taking the liberty of suppressing the rhymes, we abjured our right to -any other liberty whatsoever. A rhymed paraphrase of a great poem may -have a beauty of its own; an unrhymed version must be no paraphrase, but -a faithful transcript, else “the ripple of laughing rhyme” has been -sacrificed in vain. Our fundamental principle then, has been to -represent the original _line for line_; and to this principle we have -adhered with the utmost fidelity. There are probably not fifty cases in -the whole poem in which a word has been transferred from one line to -another, and then only some pronoun or auxiliary verb. It is needless to -say that in adhering to this principle we have often had to resist -temptation. Many cases presented themselves in which greater clearness, -grace, and vigour might easily have been attained by transferring a word -or phrase from this line to that, or even altering the sequence of a -whole group of lines. In no case have we yielded to such temptation, -feeling that, our rule once relaxed, we should insensibly but inevitably -lapse into mere paraphrase. Temptation beset us with especial force in -the less vital passages of the poem. In these places it would have been -easy to give our rendering some approach to grace and point by -disregarding inversions and other defects of expression, justified in -the original by the wit and spirit of the rhymes, but of course deprived -in our transcript of any such excuse. Here, as elsewhere, we were proof -against temptation; it is for our readers to decide whether our -constancy was heroic or pedantic. - -It would be folly to pretend either that we have reproduced every word -of the original, or that we have avoided all necessity for “padding.” -The chief drawback of our line-for-line principle is that it has -debarred us from eking out the deficiency of one line with the -superfluity of the next. We trust, however, that few essential ideas, or -even words, of the original will be found quite unaccounted for; while -with regard to padding, we have tried, where we found it absolutely -forced upon us, to use only such mechanical parts of speech as -introduced no new idea into the context. We have found by experiment -that the fact of writing in measure has frequently enabled us to keep -much closer to the original than would have been possible in prose. This -is not in reality so strange as it may at first sight appear. A prose -translation of verse can avoid paraphrase only at the cost of grotesque -inelegance; whereas in rendering metre into metre, we are working under -the same laws which govern the original, and are therefore enabled in -many cases to adopt identical forms of expression, which would be quite -inadmissible in prose. - -Thirty out of the thirty-eight scenes into which the five acts are -divided are written almost entirely in an irregular measure of four -accents, evidently designed to give the greatest possible variety and -suppleness to the dialogue. The four accents constitute almost the only -assignable law of this measure, the feet being of any length, from two -to four syllables, and of all possible denominations—iambics, trochees, -dactyls, anapæsts, amphibrachs. The effect is at first rather baffling -to the unaccustomed ear; but when one gets into the swing of the -rub-a-dub rhythm, if we may venture to call it so, the feeling of -ruggedness vanishes, and the verse is found to be capable of poignantly -pathetic, as well as of buoyantly humorous, expression. - -We have not attempted to reproduce each line of this measure accurately, -foot for foot, holding it enough to observe the law of the four accents. -Where the four-accent rule is obviously departed from, it will generally -be found to be in obedience to the original; for Ibsen now and then (but -very rarely) introduces a line or couplet of three or of five accents. - -Of the eight scenes in which this measure is not employed, three—Act I. -Sc. 1, Act II. Sc. 1, and Act IV. Sc. 7—are in a perfectly regular -trochaic measure of four accents, the lines containing seven or eight -syllables, according as the rhymes are single or double. In dealing with -this measure, we have not thought it necessary to follow the precise -arrangement of the original in the alternation of seven and eight -syllable lines. In other words, we have sometimes represented a -seven-syllable line by one of eight syllables, an eight-syllable line by -one of seven. In the short first scene of the second act, however, every -line represents accurately the length of the corresponding line in the -original. - -The fourth scene of Act II. is written in lines of three accents; the -last scene of the third act—Åse’s death-scene—in lines of three accents -with alternate double and single rhymes. In rendering this scene, we -have been careful to preserve the alternation of strong with light -endings, which gives it its metrical character. - -Two scenes—Act IV. Sc. I, and Act V. Sc. 2—consist of four-accent iambic -lines, differing from the octosyllabic verse of _Marmion_ or _The -Giaour_ chiefly in the greater prevalence of double and even treble -rhymes. Finally, the sixth scene of Act V. consists mainly of eight-line -lyrical stanzas, with two accents in each line, Peer Gynt’s interspersed -remarks being in trochaic verses, like those of Act I. Sc. 1. In such -intercalated passages, so to speak, as the rhapsodies of Huhu and the -Fellah in Act IV. Sc. 13, and the Pastor’s speech at the grave in Act V. -Sc. 3, we have accurately reproduced the measures of the original. The -Pastor’s speech is the only passage in the whole poem which is couched -in iambic decasyllables. - -In dealing with idioms and proverbial expressions, our practice has not -been very consistent. We have sometimes, where they seemed peculiarly -racy and expressive, translated them literally; in other cases we have -had recourse to the nearest English equivalent, even where the metaphor -employed is quite different. In the latter instances we have usually -given the literal rendering of the phrase in a footnote. - -For the present edition the text has been carefully revised, and some -rough edges have, it is hoped, been smoothed away; but no very essential -alteration has been made. While we are keenly conscious of all that the -poem loses in our rendering, we cannot but feel that it has justified -its existence, inasmuch as it has brought home to thousands of readers -on both sides of the Atlantic a not wholly inadequate sense of the -greatness of the original. - - W. A. - - ------ - -Footnotes: - ------ - -Footnote 1: - - One of Holberg’s most famous comedies. - -Footnote 2: - - See _The Lady from the Sea_. - -Footnote 3: - - Brandes: _Ibsen and Björnson_, p. 35. London, Heinemann, 1899. Except - in regard to the fourth act, Dr. Brandes has, in the introduction to - _Peer Gynt_ in the German collected edition, recanted his early - condemnation of the poem. - -Footnote 4: - - The last words are “deus caritatis.” - -Footnote 5: - - _Norske Huldre-Eventyr og Folkesagn_, Christiania, 1848, p. 47. See - also Copenhagen edition, 1896, p. 163. - -Footnote 6: - - _Norske Folke-og Huldre-Eventyr_, Copenhagen, 1896, p. 48. - -Footnote 7: - - _Ibid._, p. 129. - -Footnote 8: - - _Ibid._, p. 259. - -Footnote 9: - - Not included in the Copenhagen edition. See edition, Christiania, - 1866, p. 115. See also Sir George Webbe Dasent’s _Popular Tales from - the Norse_, Edinburgh, 1859; new ed. 1903, p. 396. More or less - representative selections from the storehouse of Asbjörnsen and Moe - may also be found in _Tales from the Fjeld_, by G. W. Dasent, London, - 1874, and in _Round the Yule Log_, by H. L. Brækstad, London 1881. - -Footnote 10: - - Copenhagen ed. 1896, p. 148. - -Footnote 11: - - In this story, however, he probably found the suggestion of the - “cross-roads” which figure so largely in the fifth act. In Asbjörnsen, - they are explicitly stated to be the point where the ways to Heaven - and Hell diverge. - -Footnote 12: - - Further gleanings of legendary lore concerning Peer Gynt may be found - in the Norwegian periodical _Syn og Segn_, 1903, pp. 119-130. The - writer, Per Aasmundstad, is of opinion that Peer Gynt’s real name was - Peer Haagaa (the owner of Haagaa farm) and that Gynt was either a name - given him by the huldra-folk, or else a local nickname for humorists - of his kind. According to this authority, he probably lived as far - back as the seventeenth century. Per Aasmundstad’s article is written - in the local dialect, with such ruthless phonetic accuracy that I read - it with difficulty; but he does not seem to have discovered anything - that has a definite bearing on Ibsen’s work. From the wording of - Ibsen’s letters to Hegel, however (p. viii), it would seem that he had - some knowledge of the Gynt legend over and above what was to be found - in Asbjörnsen. (For access to _Syn og Segn_, and for other obliging - assistance, I am indebted to Herr Halvdan Koht, the author of the - excellent biographical introduction to Ibsen’s Letters.) - -Footnote 13: - - It is pretty clear that the poet designed Åse’s death as a deliberate - contrast to the death of Brand’s mother. - -Footnote 14: - - In all these remarks I have in mind, of course, the scenes in their - original form. The reader will easily understand the loss which they - inevitably suffer in being deprived of the crowning grace of - richly-elaborated rhyme. - -Footnote 15: - - London: Sonnenschein, 1892. - -Footnote 16: - - _Henrik Ibsen et le Théâtre Contemporain._ Paris, 1892. - -Footnote 17: - - Deeming it unnecessary to trouble our readers with niceties of - pronunciation, we have represented the “Böig” of the original by the - more easily pronounceable “Boyg.” The root-idea seems to be that of - bending, of sinuousness; compare Norwegian _böie_, German _biegen_, to - bend. In Aasmundstad’s version of the _Peer Gynt_ legends (see Note, - p. xvii) when the Boyg names itself, Peer answers “Antel du æ rak hell - bògjë, saa fæ du sleppe mé fram”—“Whether you are straight or crooked, - you must let me pass.” The German translator, both in the folk-tale - and in the drama, renders “Böigen” by “der Krumme.” So far as we are - aware, the name occurs in no other folk-tale save that of _Peer Gynt_. - It is not generic, but denotes an individual troll-monster. - -Footnote 18: - - Dr. A. von Hanstein (_Ibsen als Idealist_, Leipzig, 1897, p. 67), - states that Ibsen himself endorsed this interpretation; but I do not - know on what evidence his statement is founded. - -Footnote 19: - - _Henrik Ibsen_ 1828-1888. _Et Literært Livsbillede_, Copenhagen, 1888. - English Translation, London, Heinemann, 1890. - ------ - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - PEER GYNT - - (1867) - - - - - CHARACTERS. - - ÅSE,[20] _a peasant’s widow_. - PEER GYNT,[21] _her son_. - TWO OLD WOMEN _with corn-sacks_. ASLAK, _a smith_. - WEDDING GUESTS. A KITCHEN-MASTER, A FIDDLER, ETC. - A MAN AND WIFE, _newcomers to the district_. - SOLVEIG and LITTLE HELGA, _their daughters_. - THE FARMER AT HEGSTAD. - INGRID, _his daughter_. - THE BRIDEGROOM and HIS PARENTS. - THREE SÆTER-GIRLS. A GREEN-CLAD WOMAN. - THE OLD MAN OF THE DOVRË. - A TROLL-COURTIER. SEVERAL OTHERS. TROLL-MAIDENS and - TROLL-URCHINS. A COUPLE OF WITCHES. BROWNIES, NIXIES, - GNOMES, ETC. - AN UGLY BRAT. A VOICE IN THE DARKNESS. BIRD-CRIES. - KARI, _a cottar’s wife_. - Master COTTON, Monsieur BALLON, Herren VON EBERKOPF - and TRUMPETERSTRÅLE, _gentlemen on their travels_. A - THIEF and A RECEIVER. - ANITRA, _daughter of a Bedouin chief_. - ARABS, FEMALE SLAVES, DANCING-GIRLS, ETC. - THE MEMNON-STATUE (_singing_). THE SPHINX AT GIZEH - (_muta persona_). - PROFESSOR BEGRIFFENFELDT, Dr. phil., _director of the - madhouse at Cairo_. - HUHU, _a language-reformer from the coast of Malabar_. - HUSSEIN, _an eastern Minister_. A FELLAH, _with a - royal mummy_. - SEVERAL MADMEN, _with their_ KEEPERS. - A NORWEGIAN SKIPPER and HIS CREW. A STRANGE PASSENGER. - A PASTOR. A FUNERAL-PARTY. A PARISH-OFFICER. A - BUTTON-MOULDER. A LEAN PERSON. - - (_The action, which opens in the beginning of the present [that - is the nineteenth] century, and ends towards our own days - [1867], takes place partly in Gudbrandsdale, and on the - mountains around it, partly on the coast of Morocco, in the - desert of Sahara, in a madhouse at Cairo, at sea, etc._) - - ------ - - Footnotes: - ------ - -Footnote 20: - - Pronounce _Oasë_. The letter _å_ is pronounced like the _o_ in - “home.” - -Footnote 21: - - Pronounce _Pair Günt_—the _G_ hard, the _y_ like the German - modified _ü_. - ------ - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - PEER GYNT. - - -------------- - - ACT FIRST. - - SCENE FIRST. - - _A wooded hillside near ÅSE’S farm. A river rushes down the - slope. On the farther side of it an old mill-shed. It is a - hot day in summer._ - - _PEER GYNT, a strongly-built youth of twenty, comes down the - pathway. His mother, ÅSE, a small, slightly-built woman, - follows him, scolding angrily._ - - - ÅSE. - - Peer, you’re lying! - - PEER. - [_Without stopping._] - - No, I am not! - - ÅSE. - - Well then, swear that it is true! - - PEER. - - Swear? Why should I? - - ÅSE. - - See, you dare not! - It’s a lie from first to last. - - PEER. - [_Stopping._] - - It is true—each blessed word! - - ÅSE. - [_Confronting him._] - - Don’t you blush before your mother? - First you skulk among the mountains - Monthlong in the busiest season, - Stalking reindeer in the snows; - Home you come then, torn and tattered, - Gun amissing, likewise game;— - And at last, with open eyes, - Think to get me to believe - All the wildest hunters’-lies!— - Well, where did you find the buck, then? - - PEER. - - West near Gendin.[22] - - ÅSE. - [_Laughing scornfully._] - - Ah! Indeed. - - PEER. - - Keen the blast towards me swept; - Hidden by an alder-clump, - He was scraping in the snow-crust - After lichen—— - - ÅSE. - [_As before._] - - Doubtless, yes! - - PEER. - - Breathlessly I stood and listened, - Heard the crunching of his hoof, - Saw the branches of one antler. - Softly then among the boulders - I crept forward on my belly. - Crouched in the moraine I peered up;— - Such a buck, so sleek and fat, - You, I’m sure, have ne’er set eyes on. - - ÅSE. - - No, of course not! - - PEER. - - Bang! I fired. - Clean he dropped upon the hillside. - But the instant that he fell, - I sat firm astride his back, - Gripped him by the left ear tightly, - And had almost sunk my knife-blade - In his neck, behind his skull— - When, behold! the brute screamed wildly. - Sprang upon his feet like lightning, - With a back-cast of his head - From my fist made knife and sheath fly, - Pinned me tightly by the thigh, - Jammed his horns against my legs, - Clenched me like a pair of tongs;— - Then forthwith away he flew - Right along the Gendin-Edge! - - ÅSE. - [_Involuntarily._] - - Jesus save us——! - - PEER. - - Have you ever - Chanced to see the Gendin-Edge? - Nigh on four miles long it stretches - Sharp before you like a scythe. - Down o’er glaciers, landslips, screes, - Down the toppling grey moraines, - You can see, both right and left, - Straight into the tarns that slumber, - Black and sluggish, more than seven - Hundred fathoms deep below you. - Right along the Edge we two - Clove our passage through the air. - Never rode I such a colt! - Straight before us as we rushed - ’Twas as though there glittered suns. - Brown-backed eagles that were sailing - In the wide and dizzy void - Half-way ’twixt us and the tarns, - Dropped behind, like motes in air. - On the shores crashed hurtling ice-floes, - But no echo reached my ears. - Only sprites of dizziness[23] sprang, - Dancing, round;—they sang, they swung, - Circle-wise, past sight and hearing! - - ÅSE. - [_Dizzy._] - - Oh, God save me! - - PEER. - - All at once, - At a desperate, break-neck spot, - Rose a great cock-ptarmigan, - Flapping, cackling, terrified, - From the crack where he lay hidden - At the buck’s feet on the Edge. - Then the buck shied half around, - Leapt sky-high, and down we plunged, - Both of us, into the depths! - - [_ÅSE totters, and catches at the trunk of a tree. PEER - GYNT continues_: - - Mountain walls behind us, black, - And below a void unfathomed! - First we clove through banks of mist, - Then we clove a flock of sea-gulls, - So that they, in mid-air startled, - Flew in all directions, screaming. - Downward rushed we, ever downward. - But beneath us something shimmered, - Whitish, like a reindeer’s belly.— - Mother, ’twas our own reflection - In the glass-smooth mountain tarn, - Shooting up towards the surface - With the same wild rush of speed - Wherewith we were shooting downwards. - - ÅSE. - [_Gasping for breath._] - - Peer! God help me——! Quickly, tell—— - - PEER. - - Buck from over, buck from under, - In a moment clashed together, - Scattering foam-flecks all around. - There we lay then, floating, plashing,— - But at last we made our way - Somehow to the northern shore; - Swam the buck, I clung behind him:— - I ran homewards—— - - ÅSE. - - But the buck, dear? - - PEER. - - He’s there still, for aught I know;— - - [_Snaps his fingers, turns on his heel, and adds_: - - Catch him, and you’re welcome to him! - - ÅSE. - - And your neck you haven’t broken? - Haven’t broken both your thighs? - And your backbone, too, is whole? - Oh, dear Lord—what thanks, what praise, - Should be thine who helped my boy! - There’s a rent, though, in your breeches; - But it’s scarce worth talking of - When one thinks what dreadful things - Might have come of such a leap——! - - [_Stops suddenly, looks at him open-mouthed and - wide-eyed; cannot find words for some time, but at - last bursts out_: - - Oh, you devil’s story-teller, - Cross of Christ, how you can lie! - All this screed you foist upon me, - I remember now, I knew it - When I was a girl of twenty. - Gudbrand Glesnë[24] it befell, - Never you, you—— - - PEER. - - Me as well. - Such a thing can happen twice. - - ÅSE. - [_Exasperated._] - - Yes, a lie, turned topsy-turvy, - Can be prinked and tinselled out, - Decked in plumage new and fine, - Till none knows its lean old carcass. - That is just what you’ve been doing, - Vamping up things, wild and grand, - Garnishing with eagles’ backs - And with all the other horrors, - Lying right and lying left, - Filling me with speechless dread, - Till at last I recognised not - What of old I’d heard and known! - - PEER. - - If another talked like that - I’d half kill him for his pains. - - ÅSE. - [_Weeping._] - - Oh, would God I lay a corpse; - Would the black earth held me sleeping. - Prayers and tears don’t bite upon him.— - Peer, you’re lost, and ever will be! - - PEER. - - Darling, pretty little mother, - You are right in every word;— - Don’t be cross, be happy—— - - ÅSE. - - Silence! - Could I, if I would, be happy, - With a pig like you for son? - Think how bitter I must find it, - I, a poor defenceless widow, - Ever to be put to shame! - [_Weeping again._ - How much have we now remaining - From your grandsire’s days of glory? - Where are now the sacks[25] of coin - Left behind by Rasmus Gynt? - Ah, your father lent them wings,— - Lavished them abroad like sand, - Buying land in every parish, - Driving round in gilded chariots. - Where is all the wealth he wasted - At the famous winter-banquet, - When each guest sent glass and bottle - Shivering ’gainst the wall behind him? - - PEER. - - Where’s the snow of yester-year? - - ÅSE. - - Silence, boy, before your mother! - See the farmhouse! Every second - Window-pane is stopped with clouts. - Hedges, fences, all are down, - Beasts exposed to wind and weather, - Fields and meadows lying fallow, - Every month a new distraint—— - - PEER. - - Come now, stop this old-wife’s talk! - Many a time has luck seemed drooping, - And sprung up as high as ever! - - ÅSE. - - Salt strewn is the soil it grew from. - Lord, but you’re a rare one, you,— - Just as pert and jaunty still, - Just as bold as when the Pastor, - Newly come from Copenhagen, - Bade you tell your Christian name, - And declared that such a headpiece - Many a Prince down there might envy; - Till the cob your father gave him, - With a sledge to boot, in thanks - For his pleasant, friendly talk.— - Ah, but things went bravely then! - Provost,[26] Captain, all the rest, - Dropped in daily, ate and drank, - Swilling, till they well-nigh burst. - But ’tis need that tests one’s neighbour. - Lonely here it grew, and silent, - From the day that “Gold-bag Jon”[27] - Started with his pack, a pedlar. - [_Dries her eyes with her apron._ - Ah, you’re big and strong enough, - You should be a staff and pillar - For your mother’s frail old age,— - You should keep the farm-work going, - Guard the remnants of your gear;— - [_Crying again._ - Oh, God help me, small’s the profit - You have been to me, you scamp! - Lounging by the hearth at home, - Grubbing in the charcoal embers; - Or, round all the country, frightening - Girls away from merry-makings— - Shaming me in all directions, - Fighting with the worst rapscallions—— - - PEER. - [_Turning away from her._] - - Let me be. - - ÅSE. - [_Following him._] - - Can you deny - That you were the foremost brawler - In the mighty battle royal - Fought the other day at Lundë; - When you raged like mongrels mad? - Who was it but you that broke - Blacksmith Aslak’s arm for him,— - Or at any rate that wrenched one - Of his fingers out of joint? - - PEER. - - Who has filled you with such prate? - - ÅSE. - [_Hotly._] - - Cottar Kari heard the yells! - - PEER. - [_Rubbing his elbow._] - - Maybe, but ’twas I that howled. - - ÅSE. - - You? - - PEER. - - Yes, mother,—_I_ got beaten. - - ÅSE. - - What d’you say? - - PEER. - - He’s limber, he is. - - ÅSE. - - Who? - - PEER. - - Why Aslak, to be sure. - - ÅSE. - - Shame—and shame; I spit upon you! - Such a worthless sot as that, - Such a brawler, such a sodden - Dram-sponge to have beaten you! - [_Weeping again._ - Many a shame and slight I’ve suffered; - But that this should come to pass - Is the worst disgrace of all. - What if he be ne’er so limber, - Need you therefore be a weakling? - - PEER. - - Though I hammer or am hammered,— - Still we must have lamentations. - [_Laughing_ - Cheer up, mother—— - - ÅSE. - - What? You’re lying - Now again? - - PEER. - - Yes, just this once. - Come now, wipe your tears away;— - [_Clenching his left hand._ - See,—with this same pair of tongs, - Thus I held the smith bent double, - While my sledge-hammer right fist—— - - ÅSE. - - Oh, you brawler! You will bring me - With your doings to the grave! - - PEER. - - No, you’re worth a better fate; - Better twenty thousand times! - Little, ugly, dear old mother, - You may safely trust my word,— - All the parish shall exalt you; - Only wait till I have done - Something—something really grand. - - ÅSE. - [_Contemptuously._] - - You! - - PEER. - - Who knows what may befall one? - - ÅSE. - - Could you but find so much sense, - One day, as to do the darning - Of your breeches for yourself! - - PEER. - [_Hotly._] - - I will be a king, a kaiser! - - ÅSE. - - Oh, God comfort me, he’s losing - All the little wits he’d left! - - PEER. - - Yes, I will! Just give me time! - - ÅSE. - - Give you time, you’ll be a prince, - So the saying goes, I think! - - PEER. - - You shall see! - - ÅSE. - - Oh, hold your tongue - You’re as mad as mad can be.— - Ah, and yet it’s true enough,— - Something might have come of you, - Had you not been steeped for ever - In your lies and trash and moonshine. - Hegstad’s girl was fond of you. - Easily you could have won her - Had you wooed her with a will—— - - PEER. - - Could I? - - ÅSE. - - The old man’s too feeble - Not to give his child her way. - He is stiff-necked in a fashion; - But at last ’tis Ingrid rules; - And where she leads, step by step - Stumps the gaffer, grumbling, after. - [_Begins to cry again._ - Ah, my Peer!—a golden girl— - Land entailed on her! Just think, - Had you set your mind upon it, - You’d be now a bridegroom brave,— - You that stand here grimed and tattered! - - PEER. - [_Briskly._] - - Come, we’ll go a-wooing then! - - ÅSE. - - Where? - - PEER. - - At Hegstad! - - ÅSE. - - Ah, poor boy; - Hegstad way is barred to wooers! - - PEER. - - How is that? - - ÅSE. - - Ah, woe is me! - Lost the moment, lost the luck—— - - PEER. - - Speak! - - ÅSE - [_Sobbing_. - - While in the Wester-hills - You in air were riding reindeer, - Here Mads Moen’s[28] won the girl! - - PEER. - - What! That women’s-bugbear! He—— - - ÅSE. - - Ay, she’s taking him for husband. - - PEER. - - Wait you here till I have harnessed - Horse and waggon—— - [_Going._ - - ÅSE. - - Spare your pains, - They are to be wed to-morrow—— - - PEER. - - Pooh; this evening I’ll be there! - - ÅSE. - - Fie now! Would you crown our miseries - With a load of all men’s scorn? - - PEER. - - Never fear; ’twill all go well. - [_Shouting and laughing at the same time._ - Mother, jump! We’ll spare the waggon; - ’Twould take time to fetch the mare up—— - [_Lifts her up in his arms._ - - ÅSE. - - Put me down! - - PEER. - - No, in my arms - I will bear you to the wedding! - [_Wades out into the stream._ - - ÅSE. - - Help! The Lord have mercy on us! - Peer! We’re drowning—— - - PEER. - - I was born - For a braver death—— - - ÅSE. - - Ay, true; - Sure enough you’ll hang at last! - [_Tugging at his hair._ - Oh, you brute! - - PEER. - - Keep quiet now; - Here the bottom’s slippery-slimy. - - ÅSE. - - Ass! - - PEER. - - That’s right, don’t spare your tongue; - That does no one any harm. - Now it’s shelving up again—— - - ÅSE. - - Don’t you drop me! - - PEER. - - Heisan! Hop! - Now we’ll play at Peer and reindeer;— - [_Curvetting._ - I’m the reindeer, you are Peer! - - ÅSE. - - Oh, I’m going clean distraught! - - PEER. - - See now—we have reached the shallows;— - [_Wades ashore._ - Come, a kiss now, for the reindeer; - Just to thank him for the ride—— - - ÅSE - [_Boxing his ears._] - - This is how I thank him! - - PEER. - - Ow! - That’s a miserable fare! - - ÅSE. - - Put me down! - - PEER. - - First to the wedding. - Be my spokesman. You’re so clever; - Talk to him, the old curmudgeon; - Say Mads Moen’s good for nothing—— - - ÅSE. - - Put me down! - - PEER. - - And tell him then - What a rare lad is Peer Gynt. - - ÅSE. - - Truly, you may swear to that! - Fine’s the character I’ll give you. - Through and through I’ll show you up; - All about your devil’s pranks - I will tell them straight and plain—— - - PEER. - - Will you? - - ÅSE. - [_Kicking with rage._] - - I won’t stay my tongue - Till the old man sets his dog - At you, as you were a tramp! - - PEER. - - H’m; then I must go alone. - - ÅSE. - - Ay, but I’ll come after you! - - PEER. - - Mother dear, you haven’t strength—— - - ÅSE. - - Strength? When I’m in such a rage, - I could crush the rocks to powder! - Hu! I’d make a meal of flints! - Put me down! - - PEER. - - You’ll promise then—— - - ÅSE. - - Nothing! I’ll to Hegstad with you! - They shall know you, what you are! - - PEER. - - Then you’ll even have to stay here. - - ÅSE. - - Never! To the feast I’m coming! - - PEER. - - That you shan’t. - - ÅSE. - - What will you do? - - PEER. - - Perch you on the mill-house roof. - - [_He puts her up on the roof. ÅSE screams._ - - ÅSE. - - Lift me down! - - PEER. - - Yes, if you’ll listen— - - ÅSE. - - Rubbish! - - PEER. - - Dearest mother, pray—— - - ÅSE. - [_Throwing a sod of grass at him._] - - Lift me down this moment, Peer! - - PEER. - - If I dared, be sure I would. - [_Coming nearer._ - Now remember, sit quite still. - Do not sprawl and kick about; - Do not tug and tear the shingles,— - Else ’twill be the worse for you; - You might topple down. - - ÅSE. - - You beast! - - PEER. - - Do not kick! - - ÅSE. - - I’d have you blown, - Like a changeling, into space![29] - - PEER. - - Mother, fie! - - ÅSE. - - Bah! - - PEER. - - Rather give your - Blessing on my undertaking. - Will you? Eh? - - ÅSE. - - I’ll thrash you soundly, - Hulking fellow though you be! - - PEER. - - Well, good-bye then, mother dear! - Patience; I’ll be back ere long - - [_Is going, but turns, holds up his finger warningly, - and says_: - - Careful now, don’t kick and sprawl! - [_Goes._ - - ÅSE. - - Peer!—God help me, now he’s off; - Reindeer-rider! Liar! Hei! - Will you listen!—No, he’s striding - O’er the meadow——! [_Shrieks._] Help. I’m dizzy! - - _TWO OLD WOMEN, with sacks on their backs, come down the - path to the mill._ - - FIRST WOMAN. - - Christ, who’s screaming? - - ÅSE. - - It is I! - - SECOND WOMAN. - - Åse! Well, you are exalted! - - ÅSE. - - This won’t be the end of it;— - Soon, God help me, I’ll be heaven high. - - FIRST WOMAN. - - Bless your passing! - - ÅSE. - - Fetch a ladder; - I must be down! That devil Peer—— - - SECOND WOMAN. - - Peer! Your son? - - ÅSE. - - Now you can say - You have seen how he behaves. - - FIRST WOMAN. - - We’ll bear witness. - - ÅSE. - - Only help me; - Straight to Hegstad will I hasten—— - - SECOND WOMAN. - - Is he there? - - FIRST WOMAN. - - You’ll be revenged, then; - Aslak Smith will be there too. - - ÅSE. - [_Wringing her hands._] - - Oh, God help me with my boy; - They will kill him ere they’re done! - - FIRST WOMAN. - - Oh, that lot has oft been talked of; - Comfort you: what must be must be! - - SECOND WOMAN. - - She is utterly demented. - [_Calls up the hill._ - Eivind, Anders! Hei! Come here! - - A MAN’S VOICE. - - What’s amiss? - - SECOND WOMAN. - - Peer Gynt has perched his - Mother on the mill-house roof! - - - SCENE SECOND. - - _A hillock, covered with bushes and heather. The highroad runs - behind it; a fence between._ - - _PEER GYNT comes along a footpath, goes quickly up to the fence, - stops, and looks out over the distant prospect._ - - - PEER. - - Yonder lies Hegstad. Soon I’ll have reached it. - [_Puts one leg over the fence; then hesitates._ - Wonder if Ingrid’s alone in the house now? - [_Shades his eyes with his hand, and looks out._ - No; to the farm guests are swarming like midges.— - H’m, to turn back now perhaps would be wisest. - [_Draws back his leg._ - Still they must titter behind your back, - And whisper so that it burns right through you. - - [_Moves a few steps away from the fence, and begins - absently plucking leaves._ - - Ah, if I’d only a good strong dram now. - Or if I could pass to and fro unseen.— - Or were I unknown.—Something proper and strong - Were the best thing of all, for the laughter don’t bite then. - - [_Looks around suddenly as though afraid; then hides - among the bushes. Some WEDDING-GUESTS[30] pass by, - going downwards towards the farm._ - - A MAN. - [_In conversation as they pass._] - - His father was drunken, his mother is weak. - - A WOMAN. - - Ay, then it’s no wonder the lad’s good for nought. - - [_They pass on. Presently PEER GYNT comes forward, his - face flushed with shame. He peers after them._ - - PEER. - [_Softly._] - - Was it me they were talking of? - [_With a forced shrug._ - Oh, let them chatter. - After all, they can’t sneer the life out of my body. - - [_Casts himself down upon the heathery slope; lies for - some time flat on his back with his hands under his - head, gazing up into the sky._ - - What a strange sort of cloud! It is just like a horse. - There’s a man on it too—and a saddle—and bridle.— - And after it comes an old crone on a broomstick. - [_Laughs quietly to himself._ - It is mother. She’s scolding and screaming: You beast! - Hei you, Peer Gynt—— - [_His eyes gradually close._ - Ay, now she is frightened.— - Peer Gynt he rides first, and there follow him many.— - His steed it is gold-shod and crested with silver. - Himself he has gauntlets and sabre and scabbard. - His cloak it is long, and its lining is silken. - Full brave is the company riding behind him. - None of them, though, sits his charger so stoutly. - None of them glitters like him in the sunshine.— - Down by the fence stand the people in clusters, - Lifting their hats, and agape gazing upwards. - Women are curtseying. All the world knows him, - Kaiser Peer Gynt, and his thousands of henchmen. - Sixpenny pieces and glittering shillings - Over the roadway he scatters like pebbles. - Rich as a lord grows each man in the parish. - High o’er the ocean Peer Gynt goes a-riding. - Engelland’s Prince on the seashore awaits him; - There too await him all Engelland’s maidens. - Engelland’s nobles and Engelland’s Kaiser, - See him come riding and rise from their banquet. - Raising his crown, hear the Kaiser address him—— - - ASLAK THE SMITH. - [_To some other young men, passing along the road._] - - Just look at Peer Gynt there, the drunken swine——! - - PEER. - [_Starting half up._] - - What, Kaiser——! - - THE SMITH. - [_Leaning against the fence and grinning._] - - Up with you, Peer, my lad. - - PEER. - - What the devil? The smith! What do you want here? - - THE SMITH. - [_To the others._] - - He hasn’t got over the Lundëspree yet - - PEER. - [_Jumping up._] - - You’d better be off! - - THE SMITH. - - I am going, yes. - But tell us, where have you dropped from, man? - You’ve been gone six weeks. Were you troll-taken, eh? - - PEER. - - I have been doing strange deeds, Aslak Smith! - - THE SMITH. - [_Winking to the others._] - - Let us hear them, Peer! - - PEER. - - They are nought to you. - - THE SMITH. - [_After a pause._] - - You’re going to Hegstad? - - PEER. - - No. - - THE SMITH. - - Time was - They said that the girl there was fond of you. - - PEER. - - You grimy crow——! - - THE SMITH. - [_Falling back a little._] - - Keep your temper, Peer - Though Ingrid has jilted you, others are left;— - Think—son of Jon Gynt! Come on to the feast; - You’ll find there both lambkins and well-seasoned widows—— - - PEER. - - To hell—— - - THE SMITH. - - You will surely find one that will have you.— - Good evening! I’ll give your respects to the bride.— - - [_They go off, laughing and whispering._ - - PEER. - [_Looks after them a while, then makes a defiant - motion and turns half round_.] - - For my part, may Ingrid of Hegstad go marry - Whoever she pleases. It’s all one to me. - [_Looks down at his clothes._ - My breeches are torn. I am ragged and grim.— - If only I had something new to put on now. - [_Stamps on the ground._ - If only I could, with a butcher-grip, - Tear out the scorn from their very vitals! - - [_Looks round suddenly._ - - What was that? Who was it that tittered behind there? - H’m, I certainly thought—— No no, it was no one.— - I’ll go home to mother. - - [_Begins to go upwards, but stops again and listens - towards Hegstad._ - - They’re playing a dance! - - [_Gazes and listens; moves downwards step by step, his - eyes glisten; he rubs his hands down his thighs._ - - How the lasses do swarm! Six or eight to a man! - Oh, galloping death,—I must join in the frolic!— - But how about mother, perched up on the mill-house—— - - [_His eyes are drawn downwards again; he leaps and - laughs._ - - Hei, how the Halling[31] flies over the green! - Ay, Guttorm, he can make his fiddle speak out! - It gurgles and booms like a foss[32] o’er a scaur. - And then all that glittering bevy of girls!— - Yes, galloping death, I must join in the frolic! - - [_Leaps over the fence and goes down the road._ - - - - - SCENE THIRD. - - _The farm-place at Hegstad. In the background, the - dwelling-house. A THRONG OF GUESTS. A lively dance in - progress on the green. THE FIDDLER sits on a table. THE - KITCHEN-MASTER[33] is standing in the doorway. COOKMAIDS - are going to and fro between the different buildings. - Groups of ELDERLY PEOPLE sit here and there, talking._ - - A WOMAN. - [_Joins a group that is seated on some logs of wood._] - - The bride? Oh yes, she is crying a bit; - But that, you know, isn’t worth heeding. - - THE KITCHEN-MASTER. - [_In another group._] - - Now then, good folk, you must empty the barrel. - - A MAN. - - Thanks to you, friend; but you fill up too quick. - - A LAD. - [_To the Fiddler, as he flies past, holding a Girl by - the hand._] - - To it now, Guttorm, and don’t spare the fiddle-strings! - - THE GIRL. - - Scrape till it echoes out over the meadows! - - OTHER GIRLS. - [_Standing in a ring round a lad who is dancing._] - - That’s a rare fling! - - A GIRL. - - He has legs that can lift him! - - THE LAD. - [_Dancing._] - - The roof here is high,[34] and the walls wide asunder! - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - - [_Comes whimpering up to his FATHER, who is standing talking - with some other men, and twitches his jacket._] - - Father, she will not; she is so proud! - - HIS FATHER. - - What won’t she do? - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - - She has locked herself in. - - HIS FATHER. - - Well, you must manage to find the key. - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - - I don’t know how. - - HIS FATHER. - - You’re a nincompoop! - - [_Turns away to the others. The BRIDEGROOM drifts across - the yard._ - - A LAD. - [_Comes from behind the house._] - - Wait a bit, girls! Things’ll soon be lively! - Here comes Peer Gynt. - - THE SMITH. - [_Who has just come up._] - - Who invited him? - - THE KITCHEN-MASTER. - - No one. - - [_Goes towards the house._ - - THE SMITH. - [_To the girls._] - - If he should speak to you, never take notice! - - A GIRL. - [_To the others._] - - No, we’ll pretend that we don’t even see him. - - PEER GYNT. - [_Comes in heated and full of animation, stops right - in front of the group, and claps his hands._] - - Which is the liveliest girl of the lot of you? - - A GIRL. - [_As he approaches her._] - - I am not. - - ANOTHER. - [_Similarly._] - - I am not. - - A THIRD. - - No; nor I either. - - PEER. - [_To a fourth._] - - You come along, then, for want of a better. - - THE GIRL. - - Haven’t got time. - - PEER. - [_To a fifth._] - - Well then, you! - - THE GIRL. - [_Going._] - - I’m for home. - - PEER. - - To-night? are you utterly out of your senses?[35] - - THE SMITH. - [_After a moment, in a low voice._] - - See, Peer, she’s taken a greybeard for partner. - - PEER. - [_Turns sharply to an elderly man._] - - Where are the unbespoke girls? - - THE MAN. - - Find them out. - - [_Goes away from him._ - - _PEER GYNT has suddenly become subdued. He glances shyly and - furtively at the group. All look at him, but no one - speaks. He approaches other groups. Wherever he goes there - is silence; when he moves away they look after him and - smile._ - - PEER. - [_To himself._] - - Mocking looks; needle-keen whispers[36] and smiles. - They grate like a sawblade under the file! - - [_He slinks along close to the fence. SOLVEIG, leading - little HELGA by the hand, comes into the yard, along - with her PARENTS._ - - A MAN. - [_To another, close to PEER GYNT._] - - Look, here are the new folk. - - THE OTHER. - - The ones from the west? - - THE FIRST MAN. - - Ay, the people from Hedal. - - THE OTHER. - - Ah yes, so they are. - - PEER. - [_Places himself in the path of the new-comers, points - to SOLVEIG, and asks the FATHER_:] - - May I dance with your daughter? - - THE FATHER. - [_Quietly._] - - You may so; but first - We must go to the farm-house and greet the good people. - [_They go in._ - - THE KITCHEN-MASTER. - [_To PEER GYNT, offering him drink._] - - Since you are here, you’d best take a pull at the liquor. - - PEER. - [_Looking fixedly after the new-comers._] - - Thanks; I’m for dancing; I am not athirst. - - [_The KITCHEN-MASTER goes away from him. PEER GYNT gazes - towards the house and laughs._ - - How fair! Did ever you see the like! - Looked down at her shoes and her snow-white apron—! - And then she held on to her mother’s skirt-folds, - And carried a psalm-book wrapped up in a kerchief—! - I must look at that girl. - [_Going into the house._ - - A LAD. - [_Coming out of the house, with several others._] - - Are you off so soon, Peer, - From the dance? - - PEER. - - No, no. - - THE LAD. - - Then you’re heading amiss! - - [_Takes hold of his shoulder to turn him round._ - - PEER. - - Let me pass! - - THE LAD. - - I believe you’re afraid of the smith. - - PEER. - - I afraid! - - THE LAD. - - You remember what happened at Lundë? - - [_They go off, laughing, to the dancing-green._ - - SOLVEIG. - [_In the doorway of the house._] - - Are you not the lad that was wanting to dance? - - PEER. - - Of course it was me; don’t you know me again? - - [_Takes her hand._ - - Come, then! - - SOLVEIG. - - We mustn’t go far, mother said. - - PEER. - - Mother said! Mother said! Were you born yesterday?[37] - - SOLVEIG. - - Now you’re laughing——! - - PEER. - - Why sure, you are almost a child. - Are you grown up? - - SOLVEIG. - - I read with the pastor last spring.[38] - - PEER. - - Tell me your name, lass, and then we’ll talk easier. - - SOLVEIG. - - My name is Solveig. And what are you called? - - PEER. - - Peer Gynt. - - SOLVEIG. - [_Withdrawing her hand._] - - Oh heaven! - - PEER. - - Why, what is it now? - - SOLVEIG. - - My garter is loose; I must tie it up tighter. - - [_Goes away from him._ - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - [_Pulling at his MOTHER’S gown._] - - Mother, she will not——! - - HIS MOTHER. - - She will not? What? - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - - She won’t, mother—— - - HIS MOTHER. - - What? - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - - Unlock the door. - - HIS FATHER. - [_Angrily, below his breath._] - - Oh, you’re only fit to be tied in a stall! - - HIS MOTHER. - - Don’t scold him. Poor dear, he’ll be all right yet. - [_They move away._ - - A LAD. - [_Coming with a whole crowd of others from - the dancing-green._] - - Peer, have some brandy? - - PEER. - - No. - - THE LAD. - - Only a drain? - - PEER. - [_Looking darkly at him._] - - Got any? - - THE LAD. - - Well, I won’t say but I have. - [_Pulls out a pocket flask and drinks._ - Ah! How it stings your throat!—Well? - - PEER. - - Let me try it. - [_Drinks._ - - ANOTHER LAD. - - Now you must try mine as well, you know. - - PEER. - - No! - - THE LAD. - - Oh, what nonsense; now don’t be a fool. - Take a pull, Peer! - - PEER. - - Well then, give me a drop. - [_Drinks again._ - - A GIRL. - [_Half aloud._] - - Come, let’s be going. - - PEER. - - Afraid of me, wench? - - A THIRD LAD. - - Who isn’t afraid of _you_? - - A FOURTH. - - At Lundë - You showed us clearly what tricks you could play. - - PEER. - - I can do more than that, when I once get started! - - THE FIRST LAD. - [_Whispering._] - - Now he’s forging ahead! - - SEVERAL OTHERS. - [_Forming a circle around him._] - - Tell away! Tell away! - What can you——? - - PEER. - - To-morrow! - - OTHERS. - - No, now, to-night! - - A GIRL. - - Can you conjure, Peer? - - PEER. - - I can call up the devil! - - A MAN. - - My grandam could do that before I was born! - - PEER. - - Liar! What _I_ can do, that no one else can. - I one day conjured him into a nut. - It was worm-bored, you see! - - SEVERAL. - [_Laughing._] - - Ay, that’s easily guessed! - - PEER. - - He cursed, and he wept, and he wanted to bribe me - With all sorts of things—— - - ONE OF THE CROWD. - - But he had to go in? - - PEER. - - Of course. I stopped up the hole with a peg. - Hei! If you’d heard him rumbling and grumbling! - - A GIRL. - - Only think! - - PEER. - - It was just like a humble-bee buzzing. - - THE GIRL. - - Have you got him still in the nut? - - PEER. - - Why, no; - By this time that devil has flown on his way. - The grudge the smith bears me is all his doing. - - A LAD. - - Indeed? - - PEER. - - I went to the smithy, and begged - That he would crack that same nutshell for me. - He promised he would!—laid it down on his anvil; - But Aslak, you know, is so heavy of hand;— - For ever swinging that great sledge-hammer—— - - A VOICE FROM THE CROWD. - - Did he kill the foul fiend? - - PEER. - - He laid on like a man. - But the devil showed fight, and tore off in a flame - Through the roof, and shattered the wall asunder. - - SEVERAL VOICES. - - And the smith——? - - PEER. - - Stood there with his hands all scorched. - And from that day onwards, we’ve never been friends. - [_General laughter._ - - SOME OF THE CROWD. - - That yarn is a good one. - - OTHERS. - - About his best. - - PEER. - - Do you think I am making it up? - - A MAN. - - Oh no, - That you’re certainly not; for I’ve heard the most on’t - From my grandfather—— - - PEER. - - Liar! It happened to me! - - THE MAN. - - Yes, like everything else. - - PEER. - [_With a fling._] - - I can ride, I can, - Clean through the air, on the bravest of steeds! - Oh, many’s the thing I can do, I tell you! - - [_Another roar of laughter._ - - ONE OF THE GROUP. - - Peer, ride through the air a bit! - - MANY. - - Do, dear Peer Gynt——! - - PEER. - - You may spare you the trouble of begging so hard. - I will ride like a hurricane over you all! - Every man in the parish shall fall at my feet! - - AN ELDERLY MAN. - - Now he is clean off his head. - - ANOTHER. - - The dolt! - - A THIRD. - - Braggart! - - A FOURTH. - - Liar! - - PEER. - [_Threatening them._] - - Ay, wait till you see! - - A MAN. - [_Half drunk._] - - Ay, wait; you’ll soon get your jacket dusted! - - OTHERS. - - Your back beaten tender! Your eyes painted blue! - - [_The crowd disperses, the elder men angry, the younger - laughing and jeering._ - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - [_Close to PEER GYNT._] - - Peer, is it true you can ride through the air? - - PEER. - [_Shortly._] - - It’s all true, Mads! You must know I’m a rare one! - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - - Then have you got the Invisible Cloak too? - - PEER. - - The Invisible Hat, do you mean? Yes, I have. - - [_Turns away from him. SOLVEIG crosses the yard, leading - little HELGA._ - - PEER. - [_Goes towards them; his face lights up._] - - Solveig! Oh, it is well you have come! - [_Takes hold of her wrist._ - Now will I swing you round fast and fine! - - SOLVEIG. - - Loose me! - - PEER. - - Wherefore? - - SOLVEIG. - - You are so wild. - - PEER. - - The reindeer is wild, too, when summer is dawning. - Come then, lass; do not be wayward now! - - SOLVEIG. - [_Withdrawing her arm._] - - Dare not. - - PEER. - - Wherefore? - - SOLVEIG. - - No, you’ve been drinking. - - [_Moves off with HELGA._ - - PEER. - - Oh, if I had but my knife-blade driven - Clean through the heart of them,—one and all! - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - [_Nudging him with his elbow._] - - Peer, can’t you help me to get at the bride? - - PEER. - [_Absently._] - - The bride? Where is she? - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - - In the store-house. - - PEER. - - Ah. - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - - Oh, dear Peer Gynt, you must try at least! - - PEER. - - No, you must get on without my help. - - [_A thought strikes him; he says softly but sharply._ - - Ingrid! The store-house! - [_Goes up to SOLVEIG._ - Have you thought better on’t? - [_SOLVEIG tries to go; he blocks her path._ - You’re ashamed to, because I’ve the look of a tramp. - - SOLVEIG. - [_Hastily._] - - No, that you haven’t; that’s not true at all! - - PEER. - - Yes! And I’ve taken a drop as well; - But that was to spite you, because you had hurt me. - Come then! - - SOLVEIG. - - Even if I wished to, I daren’t. - - PEER. - - Who are you frightened of? - - SOLVEIG. - - Father, most. - - PEER. - - Father? Ay, ay; he is one of the quiet ones! - One of the godly, eh?—Answer, come! - - SOLVEIG. - - What shall I say? - - PEER. - - Is your father a psalm-singer?[39] - And you and your mother as well, no doubt? - Come, will you speak? - - SOLVEIG. - - Let me go in peace. - - PEER. - - No! - [_In a low but sharp and threatening tone._ - I can turn myself into a troll! - I’ll come to your bedside at midnight to-night. - If you should hear some one hissing and spitting, - You mustn’t imagine it’s only the cat. - It’s me, lass! I’ll drain out your blood in a cup, - And your little sister, I’ll eat her up; - Ay, you must know I’m a were-wolf at night;— - I’ll bite you all over the loins and the back—— - - [_Suddenly changes his tone, and entreats, as if in - dread_: - - Dance with me, lass! - - SOLVEIG. - [_Looking darkly at him._] - - You were ugly then. - - [_Goes into the house_ - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - [_Comes sidling up again._] - - I’ll give you an ox if you’ll help me! - - PEER. - - Then come! - - [_They go out behind the house. At the same moment a - crowd of men come forward from the dancing green; - most of them are drunk. Noise and hubbub. SOLVEIG, - HELGA, and their PARENTS appear among a number of - elderly people in the doorway._ - - THE KITCHEN-MASTER. - [_To the SMITH, who is the foremost of the crowd._] - - Keep peace now! - - THE SMITH. - [_Pulling off his jacket._] - - No, we must fight it out here.[40] - Peer Gynt or I must be taught a lesson.[41] - - SOME VOICES. - - Ay, let them fight for it! - - OTHERS. - - No, only wrangle! - - THE SMITH. - - Fists must decide; for the case is past words. - - SOLVEIG’S FATHER. - - Control yourself, man! - - HELGA. - - Will they beat him, mother? - - A LAD. - - Let us rather taunt him with all his lies! - - ANOTHER. - - Kick him out of the company. - - A THIRD. - - Spit in his eyes. - - A FOURTH. - [_To the SMITH._] - - You’re not backing out, smith? - - THE SMITH. - [_Flinging away his jacket._] - - The jade shall be slaughtered! - - SOLVEIG’S MOTHER. - [_To SOLVEIG._] - - There, you can see how that windbag is thought of. - - ÅSE. - [_Coming up with a stick in her hand._] - - Is that son of mine here? Now he’s in for a drubbing! - Oh! how heartily I will dang him! - - THE SMITH. - [_Rolling up his shirt-sleeves._] - - That switch is too light for a carcase like his. - - SOME OF THE CROWD. - - The smith will dang him! - - OTHERS. - - Bang him! - - THE SMITH. - [_Spits on his hands and nods to Åse._] - - Hang him! - - ÅSE. - - What? Hang my Peer? Ay, just try if you dare;— - Åse and I,[42] we have teeth and claws!— - Where is he? [_Calls across the yard._] Peer! - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - [_Comes running up._] - - Oh, God’s death on the cross! - Come father, come mother, and——! - - HIS FATHER. - - What is the matter? - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - - Just fancy, Peer Gynt——! - - ÅSE. - [_Screams_.] - - Have you taken his life? - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - - No, but Peer Gynt——! Look, there on the hillside——! - - THE CROWD. - - With the bride. - - ÅSE. - [_Lets her stick sink._] - - Oh, the beast! - - THE SMITH. - [_As if thunderstruck._] - - Where the slope rises sheerest - He’s clambering upwards, by God, like a goat! - - THE BRIDEGROOM. - [_Crying._] - - He’s shouldered her, mother, as I might a pig! - - ÅSE. - [_Shaking her fist up at him._] - - Would God you might fall, and——! - [_Screams out in terror._ - Take care of your footing! - - THE HEGSTAD FARMER. - [_Comes in, bare-headed and white with rage._] - - I’ll have his life for this bride-rape yet! - - ÅSE. - - Oh no, God punish me if I let you! - - ------ - - Footnotes: - ------ - -Footnote 22: - - Pronounce _Yendeen_. - -Footnote 23: - - This is the poet’s own explanation of this difficult passage. - “Hvirvlens vætter,” he writes, is equivalent to “Svimmelhedens - ånder”—_i.e._, spirits of dizziness or vertigo. - -Footnote 24: - - See Appendix. - -Footnote 25: - - Literally “bushels.” - -Footnote 26: - - An ecclesiastical dignitary—something equivalent to a rural - dean. - -Footnote 27: - - “Jon med Skjæppen”—literally, “John with the Bushel”—a - nickname given him in his days of prosperity, in allusion to - his supposed bushels of money. - -Footnote 28: - - Pronounce _Maass-Moo-en_. - -Footnote 29: - - It is believed in some parts of Norway that “changelings” - (elf-children left in the stead of those taken away by the - fairies) can, by certain spells, be made to fly away up the - chimney. - -Footnote 30: - - “Sendingsfolk,” literally, “folks with presents.” When the - Norwegian peasants are bidden to a wedding-feast, they bring - with them presents of eatables. - -Footnote 31: - - A somewhat violent peasant dance. - -Footnote 32: - - Foss (in the North of England “force”)—a waterfall. - -Footnote 33: - - A sort of master of ceremonies. - -Footnote 34: - - To kick the rafters is considered a great feat in the - Halling-dance. The boy means that, in the open air, his leaps - are not limited even by the rafters. - -Footnote 35: - - A marriage party among the peasants will often last several - days. - -Footnote 36: - - Literally, “thoughts.” - -Footnote 37: - - Literally, “last year.” - -Footnote 38: - - “To read with the pastor,” the preliminary to confirmation, is - currently used as synonymous with “to be confirmed.” - -Footnote 39: - - Literally, “A reader.” - -Footnote 40: - - Literally, “Here shall judgment be called for.” - -Footnote 41: - - Literally, “Must be bent to the hillside,” made to bite the - dust—but not in the sense of being killed. - -Footnote 42: - - A peasant idiom. - ------ - - - - - ACT SECOND - - SCENE FIRST. - - _A narrow path, high up in the mountains. Early morning._ - - _PEER GYNT comes hastily and sullenly along the path. INGRID, - still wearing some of her bridal ornaments, is trying to - hold him back._ - - PEER. - - Get you from me! - - INGRID. - [_Weeping._] - - After this, Peer? - Whither? - - PEER. - - Where you will for me. - - INGRID. - [_Wringing her hands._] - - Oh, what falsehood! - - PEER. - - Useless railing. - Each alone must go his way. - - INGRID. - - Sin—and sin again unites us! - - PEER. - - Devil take all recollections! - Devil take the tribe of women— - All but one——! - - INGRID. - - Who is that one, pray? - - PEER. - - ’Tis not you. - - INGRID. - - Who is it then? - - PEER. - - Go! Go thither whence you came! - Off! To your father! - - INGRID. - - Dearest, sweetest—— - - PEER. - - Peace! - - INGRID. - - You cannot mean it, surely, - What you’re saying? - - PEER. - - Can and do. - - INGRID. - - First to lure—and then forsake me! - - PEER. - - And what terms have you to offer? - - INGRID. - - Hegstad Farm, and more besides. - - PEER. - - Is your psalm-book in your kerchief? - Where’s the gold-mane on your shoulders? - Do you glance adown your apron? - Do you hold your mother’s skirt-fold? - Speak! - - INGRID. - - No, but—— - - PEER. - - Went you to the Pastor[43] - This last spring-tide? - - INGRID. - - No, but Peer—— - - PEER. - - Is there shyness in your glances? - When I beg, can you deny? - - INGRID. - - Heaven! I think his wits are going. - - PEER. - - Does your presence sanctify?[44] - Speak! - - INGRID. - - No, but—— - - PEER. - - What’s all the rest then? - - [_Going._ - - INGRID. - [_Blocking his way._] - - Know you it will cost your neck - Should you fail me? - - PEER. - - What do I care? - - INGRID. - - You may win both wealth and honour - If you take me—— - - PEER. - - Can’t afford. - - INGRID. - [_Bursting into tears._] - - Oh, you lured me——! - - PEER. - - You were willing. - - INGRID. - - I was desperate! - - PEER. - - Frantic I. - - INGRID. - [_Threatening._] - - Dearly shall you pay for this! - - PEER. - - Dearest payment cheap I’ll reckon. - - INGRID. - - Is your purpose set? - - PEER. - - Like flint. - - INGRID. - - Good! we’ll see, then, who’s the winner! - [_Goes downwards._ - - PEER. - [_Stands silent a moment, then cries_:] - - Devil take all recollections! - Devil take the tribe of women! - - INGRID. - [_Turning her head, and calling mockingly upwards_:] - - All but _one_! - - PEER. - - Yes, all but _one_. - - [_They go their several ways._ - - - SCENE SECOND. - - _Near a mountain tarn; the ground is soft and marshy round - about. A storm is gathering._ - - _ÅSE enters, calling and gazing around her despairingly, in - every direction. SOLVEIG has difficulty in keeping up with - her. SOLVEIG’S FATHER and MOTHER, with HELGA, are some way - behind._ - - ÅSE. - [_Tossing about her arms, and tearing her hair._] - - All things are against me with wrathful might! - Heaven, and the waters, and the grisly mountains! - Fog-scuds from heaven roll down to bewilder him! - The treacherous waters are lurking to murder him! - The mountains would crush him with landslip and rift!— - And the people too! They’re out after his life! - God knows they shan’t have it! I can’t bear to lose him! - Oh, the oaf! to think that the fiend should tempt him! - [_Turning to SOLVEIG._ - Now isn’t it clean unbelievable this? - He, that did nought but romance and tell lies;— - He, whose sole strength was the strength of his jaw; - He, that did never a stroke of true work;— - He——! Oh, a body could both cry and laugh!— - Oh, we clung closely in sorrow and need. - Ay, you must know that my husband, he drank, - Loafed round the parish to roister and prate, - Wasted and trampled our gear under foot. - And meanwhile at home there sat Peerkin and I— - The best we could do was to try to forget; - For ever I’ve found it so hard to bear up. - It’s a terrible thing to look fate in the eyes; - And of course one is glad to be quit of one’s cares, - And try all one can to hold thinking aloof. - Some take to brandy, and others to lies; - And we—why we took to fairy-tales - Of princes and trolls and of all sorts of beasts; - And of bride-rapes as well. Ah, but who could have dreamt - That those devil’s yarns would have stuck in his head? - [_In a fresh access of terror._ - Hu! What a scream! It’s the nixie or droug![45] - Peer! Peer!—Up there on that hillock——! - - [_She runs to the top of a little rise, and looks out - over the tarn. SOLVEIG’S FATHER and MOTHER come up._ - - ÅSE. - - Not a sign to be seen! - - THE FATHER. - [_Quietly._] - - It is worst for him! - - ÅSE. - [_Weeping._] - - Oh, my Peer! Oh, my own lost lamb! - - THE FATHER. - [_Nods mildly._] - - You may well say lost. - - ÅSE. - - Oh no, don’t talk like that! - He is so clever. There’s no one like him. - - THE FATHER. - - You foolish woman! - - ÅSE. - - Oh ay; oh ay; - Foolish I am, but the boy’s all right! - - THE FATHER. - [_Still softly and with mild eyes._] - - His heart is hardened, his soul is lost. - - ÅSE. - [_In terror._] - - No, no, he can’t be so hard, our Lord! - - THE FATHER. - - Do you think he can sigh for his debt of sin? - - ÅSE. - [_Eagerly._] - - No, but he can ride through the air on a buck, though! - - THE MOTHER. - - Christ, are you mad? - - THE FATHER. - - Why, what do you mean? - - ÅSE. - - Never a deed is too great for him. - You shall see, if only he lives so long—— - - THE FATHER. - - Best if you saw him on the gallows hanging. - - ÅSE. - [_Shrieks._] - - Oh, cross of Christ! - - THE FATHER. - - In the hangman’s hands, - It may be his heart would be turned to repentance. - - ÅSE. - [_Bewildered._] - - Oh, you’ll soon talk me out of my senses! - We must find him! - - THE FATHER. - - To rescue his soul. - - ÅSE. - - And his body! - If he’s stuck in the swamp, we must drag him out; - If he’s taken by trolls, we must ring the bells for him. - - THE FATHER. - - H’m!—Here’s a sheep path—— - - ÅSE. - - The Lord will repay you - Your guidance and help! - - THE FATHER. - - It’s a Christian’s duty. - - ÅSE. - - Then the others, fie! they are heathens all; - There was never a one that would go with us—— - - THE FATHER. - - They knew him too well. - - ÅSE. - - He was too good for them! - [_Wrings her hands._ - And to think—and to think that his life is at stake! - - THE FATHER. - - Here are tracks of a man. - - ÅSE. - - Then it’s here we must search! - - THE FATHER. - - We’ll scatter around on this side of our sæter.[46] - [_He and his wife go on ahead._ - - SOLVEIG. - [_To ÅSE._] - - Say on; tell me more. - - ÅSE. - [_Drying her eyes._] - - Of my son, you mean? - - SOLVEIG. - - Yes;— - Tell everything! - - ÅSE. - [_Smiles and tosses her head._] - - Everything?—Soon you’d be tired! - - SOLVEIG. - - Sooner by far will you tire of the telling - Than I of the hearing. - - - SCENE THIRD. - - _Low, treeless heights, close under the mountain moorlands; - peaks in the distance. The shadows are long; it is late in - the day._ - - _PEER GYNT comes running at full speed, and stops short on the - hillside._ - - PEER. - - The parish is all at my heels in a pack! - Everyman of them armed or with gun or with club. - Foremost I hear the old Hegstad-churl howling.— - Now it’s noised far and wide that Peer Gynt is abroad! - It is different, this, from a bout with a smith! - This is life! Every limb grows as strong as a bear’s. - [_Strikes out with his arms and leaps in the air._ - To crush, overturn, stem the rush of the foss![47] - To strike! Wrench the fir-tree right up by the root! - This is life! This both hardens and lifts one high! - To hell then with all of the savourless lies! - - THREE SÆTER GIRLS.[48] - [_Rush across the hillside, screaming and singing._] - - Trond of the Valfjeld![49] Bård and Kårë! - Troll-pack! To-night would you sleep in our arms? - - PEER. - - To whom do you call? - - THE GIRLS. - - To the trolls! to the trolls! - - FIRST GIRL. - - Trond, come with kindness! - - SECOND GIRL. - - Bård, come with force! - - THIRD GIRL. - - The cots in the sæter are all standing empty! - - FIRST GIRL. - - Force is kindness! - - SECOND GIRL. - - And kindness is force! - - THIRD GIRL. - - If lads are a wanting, one plays with the trolls! - - PEER. - - Why, where are the lads, then? - - ALL THREE. - [_With a horse-laugh._] - - They cannot come hither! - - - FIRST GIRL. - - Mine called me his sweetheart and called me his darling. - Now he has married a grey-headed widow. - - SECOND GIRL. - - Mine met a gipsy-wench north on the upland. - Now they are tramping the country together. - - THIRD GIRL. - - Mine put an end to our bastard brat. - Now his head’s grinning aloft on a stake. - - ALL THREE. - - Trond of the Valfjeld! Bård and Kårë! - Troll-pack! To-night would you sleep in our arms! - - PEER. - [_Stands, with a sudden leap, in the midst of them._] - - I’m a three-headed troll, and the boy for three girls! - - THE GIRLS. - - Are you such a lad, eh? - - PEER. - - You shall judge for yourselves! - - FIRST GIRL. - - To the hut! To the hut! - - SECOND GIRL. - - We have mead! - - PEER. - - Let it flow! - - THIRD GIRL. - - No cot shall stand empty this Saturday night! - - SECOND GIRL. - [_Kissing him._] - - He sparkles and glisters like white-heated iron. - - THIRD GIRL. - [_Doing likewise._] - - Like a baby’s eyes from the blackest tarn. - - PEER. - [_Dancing in the midst of them._] - - Heavy of heart and wanton of mind. - The eyes full of laughter, the throat of tears! - - THE GIRLS. - [_Making mocking gestures towards the mountain-tops, - screaming and singing._] - - Trond of the Valfjeld! Bård and Kårë! - Troll-pack!—To-night who shall sleep in our arms? - - [_They dance away over the heights, with PEER GYNT in - their midst._ - - - SCENE FOURTH. - - _Among the Rondë mountains. Sunset. Shining snow-peaks all - around._ - - _PEER GYNT enters, dizzy and bewildered._ - - PEER. - - Tower over tower arises! - Hei, what a glittering gate! - Stand! Will you stand! It’s drifting - Further and further away! - High on the vane the wind-cock - Arches his wings for flight;— - Blue spread the rifts and bluer, - Locked is the fell and barred.— - What are those trunks and tree-roots, - That grow from the ridge’s clefts? - They are warriors heron-footed! - Now they, too, are fading away. - A shimmering like rainbow-streamers - Goes shooting through eyes and brain. - What is it, that far-off chiming? - What’s weighing my eyebrows down? - Hu, how my forehead’s throbbing— - A tightening red-hot ring——! - I cannot think who the devil - as bound it around my head! - [_Sinks down._ - Flight o’er the Edge of Gendin— - Stuff and accursed lies! - Up o’er the steepest hill-wall - With the bride,—and a whole day drunk; - Hunted by hawks and falcons, - Threatened by trolls and such, - Sporting with crazy wenches:— - and accursed stuff! - [_Gazes long upwards._ - Yonder sail two brown eagles. - Southward the wild geese fly. - And here I must splash and stumble - In quagmire and filth knee-deep! - [_Springs up._ - I’ll fly too! I will wash myself clean in - The bath of the keenest winds! - I’ll fly high! I will plunge myself fair in - The glorious christening-font! - I will soar far over the sæter; - I will ride myself pure of soul; - I will forth o’er the salt sea waters, - And high over Engelland’s prince! - Ay, gaze as ye may, young maidens; - My ride is for none of you; - You’re wasting your time in waiting—! - Yet maybe I’ll swoop down, too.— - What has come of the two brown eagles—? - They’ve vanished, the devil knows where!— - There’s the peak of a gable rising; - It’s soaring on every hand; - It’s growing from out the ruins;— - See, the gateway is standing wide! - Ha-ha, yonder house, I know it; - It’s grandfather’s new-built farm! - Gone are the clouts from the windows; - The crazy old fence is gone. - The lights gleam from every casement; - There’s a feast in the hall to-night. - There, that was the provost clinking - The back of his knife on his glass;— - There’s the captain flinging his bottle, - And shivering the mirror to bits.— - Let them waste; let it all be squandered! - Peace, mother; what need we care! - ’Tis the rich Jon Gynt gives the banquet; - Hurrah for the race of Gynt! - What’s all this bustle and hubbub? - Why do they shout and bawl? - The captain is calling the son in;— - Oh, the provost would drink my health. - In then, Peer Gynt, to the judgment; - It rings forth in song and shout: - Peer Gynt, thou art come of great things, - And great things shall come of thee! - - [_Leaps forward, but runs his head against a rock, - falls, and remains stretched on the ground._ - - - SCENE FIFTH. - - _A hillside, wooded with great soughing trees. Stars are - gleaming through the leaves; birds are singing in the - tree-tops._ - - _A GREEN-CLAD WOMAN is crossing the hillside; PEER GYNT follows - her, with all sorts of lover-like antics._ - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - [_Stops and turns round._] - - Is it true? - - PEER. - [_Drawing his finger across his throat._] - - As true as my name is Peer;— - As true as that you are a lovely woman! - Will you have me? You’ll see what a fine man I’ll be; - You shall neither tread the loom nor turn the spindle. - You shall eat all you want, till you’re ready to burst. - I never will drag you about by the hair—— - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - - Nor beat me! - - PEER. - - No, can you think I would! - We kings’ sons never beat women and such. - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - - You’re a king’s son? - - PEER. - - Yes. - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - - I’m the Dovrë-King’s daughter. - - PEER. - - Are you! See there, now, how well that fits in! - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - - Deep in the Rondë has father his palace. - - PEER. - - My mother’s is bigger, or much I’m mistaken. - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - - Do you know my father? His name is King Brosë.[50] - - PEER. - - Do you know my mother? Her name is Queen Åsë. - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - - When my father is angry the mountains are riven. - - PEER. - - They reel when my mother by chance falls a-scolding. - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - - My father can kick e’en the loftiest roof-tree.[51] - - PEER. - - My mother can ride through the rapidest river. - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - - Have you other garments besides those rags? - - PEER. - - Ho, you should just see my Sunday clothes! - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - - My week-day gown is of gold and silk. - - PEER. - - It looks to me liker tow and straws. - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - - Ay, there is one thing you must remember:— - This is the Rondë-folk’s use and wont: - All our possessions have two-fold form. - When shall you come to my father’s hall, - It well may chance that you’re on the point - Of thinking you stand in a dismal moraine. - - PEER. - - Well now, with us it’s precisely the same. - Our gold will seem to you litter and trash! - And you’ll think, mayhap, every glittering pane - Is nought but a bunch of old stockings and clouts. - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - - Black it seems white, and ugly seems fair. - - PEER. - - Big it seems little, and dirty seems clean. - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - [_Falling on his neck._] - - Ay, Peer, now I see that we fit, you and I! - - PEER. - - Like the leg and the trouser, the hair and the comb. - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - [_Calls away over the hillside._] - - Bridal-steed! Bridal-steed! Come, bridal-steed mine! - - [_A gigantic pig comes running in with a rope’s end for - a bridle and an old sack for a saddle. PEER GYNT - vaults on its back, and seats the GREEN-CLAD ONE in - front of him._ - - PEER. - - Hark-away! Through the Rondë-gate gallop we in! - Gee-up, gee-up, my courser fine! - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - [_Tenderly._] - - Ah, but lately I wandered and moped and pined— - One never can tell what may happen to one! - - PEER. - [_Thrashing the pig and trotting off._] - - You may know the great by their riding gear! - - - SCENE SIXTH. - - _The Royal Hall of the King of the Dovrë-Trolls. A great - assembly of TROLL-COURTIERS, GNOMES, and BROWNIES. THE OLD - MAN OF THE DOVRË sits on the throne, crowned, and with his - sceptre in his hand. His CHILDREN and NEAREST RELATIONS - are ranged on both sides. PEER GYNT stands before him. - Violent commotion in the hall._ - - THE TROLL-COURTIERS. - - Slay him! a Christian-man’s son has deluded - The Dovrë-King’s loveliest maid! - - A TROLL-IMP. - - May I hack him on the fingers? - - ANOTHER. - - May I tug him by the hair? - - A TROLL-MAIDEN. - - Hu, hei, let me bite him in the haunches! - - A TROLL-WITCH. - [_With a ladle._] - - Shall he be boiled into broth and bree? - - ANOTHER TROLL-WITCH. - [_With a chopper._] - - Shall he roast on a spit or be browned in a stewpan? - - THE OLD MAN OF THE DOVRË. - - Ice to your blood, friends! - [_Beckons his counsellors closer around him._ - Don’t let us talk big. - We’ve been drifting astern in these latter years; - We can’t tell what’s going to stand or to fall, - And there’s no sense in turning recruits away. - Besides the lad’s body has scarce a blemish, - And he’s strongly-built too, if I see aright. - It’s true, he has only a single head; - But my daughter, too, has no more than one. - Three-headed trolls are gone clean out of fashion; - One hardly sees even a two-header now, - And even those heads are but so-so ones. - [_To PEER GYNT._] - It’s my daughter, then, you demand of me? - - PEER. - - Your daughter and the realm to her dowry, yes. - - THE OLD MAN. - - You shall have the half while I’m still alive, - And the other half when I come to die. - - PEER. - - I’m content with that. - - THE OLD MAN. - - Ay, but stop, my lad;— - You also have some undertakings to give. - If you break even one, the whole pact’s at an end, - And you’ll never get away from here living. - First of all you must swear that you’ll never give heed - To aught that lies outside the Rondë-hills’ bounds; - Day you must shun, and deeds, and each sunlit spot. - - PEER. - - Only call me king, and that’s easy to keep. - - THE OLD MAN. - - And next—now for putting your wits to the test. - [_Draws himself up in his seat._ - - THE OLDEST TROLL-COURTIER. - [_To PEER GYNT._] - - Let us see if you have a wisdom-tooth - That can crack the Dovrë-King’s riddle-nut! - - THE OLD MAN. - - What difference is there ’twixt trolls and men? - - PEER. - - No difference at all, as it seems to me. - Big trolls would roast you and small trolls would claw you;— - With us it were likewise, if only they dared. - - THE OLD MAN. - - True enough; in that and in more we’re alike. - Yet morning is morning, and even is even, - And there is a difference all the same.— - Now let me tell you wherein it lies: - Out yonder, under the shining vault, - Among men the saying goes: “Man, be thyself!” - At home here with us, ’mid the tribe of the trolls, - The saying goes: “Troll, to thyself be—enough!” - - THE TROLL-COURTIER. - [_To PEER GYNT._] - - Can you fathom the depth? - - PEER. - - It strikes me as misty. - - THE OLD MAN. - - My son, that “Enough,” that most potent and sundering - Word, must be graven upon your escutcheon. - - PEER. - [_Scratching his head._] - - Well, but—— - - THE OLD MAN. - - It _must_, if you here would be master! - - PEER. - - Oh well, let it pass; after all, it’s no worse—— - - THE OLD MAN. - - And next you must learn to appreciate - Our homely, everyday way of life. - - [_He beckons; two TROLLS with pigs’-heads, white - night-caps, and so forth, bring in food and drink._ - - The cow gives cakes and the bullock mead; - Ask not if its taste be sour or sweet; - The main matter is, and you mustn’t forget it, - It’s all of it home-brewed. - - PEER. - [_Pushing the things away from him._] - - The devil fly off with your home-brewed drinks! - I’ll never get used to the ways of this land. - - THE OLD MAN. - - The bowl’s given in, and it’s fashioned of gold. - Whoso own the gold bowl, him my daughter holds dear. - - PEER. - [_Pondering._] - - It is written: Thou shalt bridle the natural man;— - And I daresay the drink may in time seem less sour. - So be it! - [_Complies._ - - THE OLD MAN. - - Ay, that was sagaciously said. - You spit? - - PEER. - - One must trust to the force of habit. - - THE OLD MAN. - - And next you must throw off your Christian-man’s garb; - For this you must know to our Dovrë’s renown: - Here all things are mountain-made, nought’s from the dale, - Except the silk bow at the end of your tail. - - PEER. - [_Indignant._] - - I haven’t a tail! - - THE OLD MAN. - - Then of course you must get one. - See my Sunday-tail, Chamberlain, fastened to him. - - PEER. - - I’ll be hanged if you do! Would you make me a fool? - - THE OLD MAN. - - None comes courting my child with no tail at his rear. - - PEER. - - Make a beast of a man! - - THE OLD MAN. - - Nay, my son, you mistake; - I make you a mannerly wooer, no more. - A bright orange bow we’ll allow you to wear, - And that passes here for the highest of honours. - - PEER. - [_Reflectively._] - - It’s true, as the saying goes: Man’s but a mote. - And it’s wisest to follow the fashion a bit. - Tie away! - - THE OLD MAN. - - You’re a tractable fellow, I see. - - THE COURTIER. - - Just try with what grace you can waggle and whisk it! - - PEER. - [_Peevishly._] - - Ha, would you force me to go still further? - Do you ask me to give up my Christian faith? - - THE OLD MAN. - - No, that you are welcome to keep in peace. - Doctrine goes free; upon that there’s no duty; - It’s the outward cut one must tell a troll by. - If we’re only at one in our manners and dress, - You may hold as your faith what to us is a horror. - - PEER. - - Why, in spite of your many conditions, you are - A more reasonable chap than one might have expected. - - THE OLD MAN. - - We troll-folk, my son, are less black than we’re painted;[52] - That’s another distinction between you and us.— - But the serious part of the meeting is over; - Now let us gladden our ears and our eyes. - Music-maid, forth! Set the Dovrë-harp sounding! - Dancing-maid, forth! Tread the Dovrë-hall’s floor! - [_Music and a dance._ - - THE COURTIER. - - How like you it? - - PEER. - - Like it? H’m—— - - THE OLD MAN. - - Speak without fear! - What see you? - - PEER. - - Why something unspeakably grim:[53] - A bell-cow with her hoof on a gut-harp strumming. - A sow in socklets a-trip to the tune. - - THE COURTIERS. - - Eat him! - - THE OLD MAN. - - His sense is but human, remember! - - TROLL-MAIDENS. - - Hu, tear away both his ears and his eyes! - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - [_Weeping._] - - Hu-hu! And this we must hear and put up with, - When I and my sister make music and dance. - - PEER. - - Oho, was it you? Well, a joke at the feast, - You must know, is never unkindly meant. - - THE GREEN CLAD ONE. - - Can you swear it was so? - - PEER. - - Both the dance and the music - Were utterly charming, the cat claw me else. - - THE OLD MAN. - - This same human nature’s a singular thing; - It sticks to people so strangely long. - If it gets a gash in the fight with us, - It heals up at once, though a scar may remain. - My son-in-law, now, is as pliant as any; - He’s willingly thrown off his Christian-man’s garb, - He’s willingly drunk from our chalice of mead, - He’s willingly fastened the tail to his back,— - So willing, in short, did we find him in all things, - I thought to myself the old Adam, for certain, - Had for good and all been kicked out of doors; - But lo! in two shakes he’s atop again! - Ay ay, my son, we must treat you, I see, - To cure this pestilent human nature. - - PEER. - - What will you do? - - THE OLD MAN. - - In your left eye, first, - I’ll scratch you a bit, till you see awry; - But all that you see will seem fine and brave. - And then I’ll just cut your right window-pane out—— - - PEER. - - Are you drunk? - - THE OLD MAN. - [_Lays a number of sharp instruments on the table._] - - See, here are the glazier’s tools. - Blinkers you’ll wear, like a raging bull. - Then you’ll recognise that your bride is lovely,— - And ne’er will your vision be troubled, as now, - With bell-cows harping and sows that dance. - - PEER. - - This is madman’s talk! - - THE OLDEST COURTIER. - - It’s the Dovrë-King speaking; - ’Tis he that is wise, and ’tis you that are crazy! - - THE OLD MAN. - - Just think how much worry and mortification - You’ll thus escape from, year out, year in. - You must remember, your eyes are the fountain - Of the bitter and searing lye of tears. - - PEER. - - That’s true; and it says in our sermon-book: - If thine eye offend thee, then pluck it out. - But tell me, when will my sight heal up - Into human sight? - - THE OLD MAN. - - Nevermore, my friend. - - PEER. - - Indeed! In that case, I’ll take my leave. - - THE OLD MAN. - - What would you without? - - PEER. - - I would go my way. - - THE OLD MAN. - - No, stop! It’s easy to slip in here, - But outward the Dovrë-King’s gate opens not. - - PEER. - - You wouldn’t detain me by force, I hope? - - THE OLD MAN. - - Come now, just listen to reason, Prince Peer! - You have gifts for trolldom. He acts—does he not?— - Even now in a passably troll-like fashion? - And you’d fain be a troll? - - PEER. - - Yes, I would, sure enough. - For a bride, and a well-managed kingdom to boot, - I can put up with losing a good many things. - But there is a limit to all things on earth. - The tail I’ve accepted, it’s perfectly true; - But no doubt I can loose what the Chamberlain tied. - My breeches I’ve dropped; they were old and patched; - But no doubt I can button them on again. - And lightly enough I can slip my cable - From these your Dovrëfied ways of life. - I am willing to swear that a cow is a maid; - An oath one can always eat up again;— - But to know that one never can free oneself, - That one can’t even die like a decent soul; - To live as a hill-troll for all one’s days— - To feel that one never can beat a retreat,— - As the book has it, that’s what your heart is set on; - But that is a thing I can never agree to. - - THE OLD MAN. - - Now, sure as I live, I shall soon lose my temper; - And then I am not to be trifled with. - You pasty-faced loon! Do you know who I am? - First with my daughter you make too free—— - - PEER. - - There you lie in your throat! - - THE OLD MAN. - - You must marry her. - - PEER. - - Do you dare to accuse me——? - - THE OLD MAN. - - What? Can you deny - That you lusted for her in heart and eye? - - PEER. - [_With a snort of contempt._] - - No more? Who the deuce cares a straw for that? - - THE OLD MAN. - - It’s ever the same with this humankind. - The spirit you’re ready to own with your lips, - But in fact nothing counts that your fists cannot handle. - So you really think, then, that lust matters nought? - Wait; you shall soon have ocular proof of it—— - - PEER. - - You don’t catch me with a bait of lies! - - THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. - - My Peer, ere the year’s out, your child will be born. - - PEER. - - Open doors! let me go! - - THE OLD MAN. - - In a he-goat’s skin. - You shall have the brat after you. - - PEER. - [_Mopping the sweat off his brow._] - - Would I could waken! - - THE OLD MAN. - - Shall we send him to the palace? - - PEER. - - You can send him to the parish! - - THE OLD MAN. - - Well well, Prince Peer; that’s your own look-out. - But one thing’s certain, what’s done is done; - And your offspring, too, will be sure to grow; - Such mongrels shoot up amazingly fast—— - - PEER. - - Old man, don’t act like a headstrong ox! - Hear reason, maiden! Let’s come to terms. - You must know I’m neither a prince nor rich;— - And whether you measure or whether you weigh me, - Be sure you won’t gain much by making me yours. - - [_THE GREEN-CLAD ONE is taken ill, and is carried out by - TROLL-MAIDS._ - - THE OLD MAN. - [_Looks at him for a while in high disdain; then says_:] - - Dash him to shards on the rock-walls, children! - - THE TROLL-IMPS. - - Oh dad, mayn’t we play owl-and-eagle first! - The wolf-game! Grey-mouse and glow-eyed cat! - - THE OLD MAN. - - Yes, but quick. I am worried and sleepy. Goodnight! - [_He goes._ - - PEER. - [_Hunted by the TROLL-IMPS._] - - Let me be, devil’s imps! - [_Tries to escape up the chimney._ - - THE IMPS. - - Come brownies! Come nixies! - Bite him behind! - - PEER. - - Ow! - [_Tries to slip down the cellar trap-door._ - - THE IMPS. - - Shut up all the crannies! - - THE TROLL-COURTIER. - - Now the small-fry are happy! - - PEER. - [_Struggling with a little IMP that has bit himself - fast to his ear._] - - Let go will you, beast! - - - THE COURTIER. - [_Hitting him across the fingers._] - - Gently, you scamp, with a scion of royalty! - - PEER. - - A rat-hole——! - [_Runs to it._ - - THE IMPS. - - Be quick, Brother Nixie, and block it! - - PEER. - - The old one was bad, but the youngsters are worse! - - THE IMPS. - - Slash him! - - PEER. - - Oh, would I were small as a mouse! - [_Rushing around._ - - THE IMPS. - [_Swarming round him._] - - Close the ring! Close the ring! - - PEER. - [_Weeping._] - - Were I only a louse! - [_He falls._ - - THE IMPS. - - Now into his eyes! - - PEER. - [_Buried in a heap of IMPS._] - - Mother, help me, I die! - [_Church bells sound far away._ - - THE IMPS. - - Bells in the mountain! The Black-Frock’s cows! - - [_THE TROLLS take to flight, amid a confused uproar of - yells and shrieks. The palace collapses; everything - disappears._ - - - SCENE SEVENTH. - - - _Pitch darkness._ - - _PEER GYNT is heard beating and slashing about him with a large - bough._ - - PEER. - - Answer! Who are you? - - A VOICE IN THE DARKNESS. - - Myself. - - PEER. - - Clear the way! - - THE VOICE. - - Go roundabout, Peer! The hill’s roomy enough. - - PEER. - [_Tries to force a passage at another place, but strikes - against something._] - - Who are _you_? - - THE VOICE. - - Myself. Can you say the same? - - PEER. - - I can say what I will; and my sword can smite! - Mind yourself! Hu, hei, now the blow falls crushing! - King Saul slew hundreds; Peer Gynt slew thousands! - [_Cutting and slashing._ - Who _are_ you? - - THE VOICE. - - Myself. - - PEER. - - That stupid reply - You may spare; it doesn’t clear up the matter. - _What_ are you? - - THE VOICE. - - The great Boyg.[54] - - PEER. - - Ah, indeed! - The riddle was black; now I’d call it grey. - Clear the way then, Boyg! - - THE VOICE. - - Go roundabout, Peer! - - PEER. - - No, through! - [_Cuts and slashes._ - There he fell! - [_Tries to advance, but strikes against something._ - Ho ho, are there more here? - - THE VOICE. - - The Boyg, Peer Gynt! the one only one. - It’s the Boyg that’s unwounded, and the Boyg that was hurt, - It’s the Boyg that is dead, and the Boyg that’s alive. - - PEER. - [_Throws away the branch._] - - The weapon is troll-smeared;[55] but I have my fists! - [_Fights his way forward._ - - THE VOICE. - - Ay, trust to your fists, lad, trust to your body. - Hee-hee, Peer Gynt, so you’ll reach the summit. - - PEER. - [_Falling back again._] - - Forward or back, and it’s just as far;— - Out or in, and it’s just as strait![56] - He is _there_! And _there_! And he’s round the bend! - No sooner I’m out than I’m back in the ring.— - Name who you are! Let me see you! What are you? - - THE VOICE. - - The Boyg. - - PEER. - [_Groping around._] - - Not dead, not living; all slimy; misty. - Not so much as a shape! It’s as bad as to battle - In a cluster of snarling, half-wakened bears! - [_Screams._ - Strike back at me, can’t you! - - THE VOICE. - - The Boyg isn’t mad. - - PEER. - - Strike! - - THE VOICE. - - The Boyg strikes not. - - PEER. - - Fight! You shall! - - THE VOICE. - - The great Boyg conquers, but does not fight. - - PEER. - - Were there only a nixie here that could prick me! - Were there only as much as a year-old troll! - Only something to fight with. But here there is nothing.— - Now he’s snoring! Boyg! - - THE VOICE. - - What’s your will? - - PEER. - - Use force! - - THE VOICE. - - The great Boyg conquers in all things without it.[57] - - PEER. - [_Biting his own arms and hands._] - - Claws and ravening teeth in my flesh! - I must feel the drip of my own warm blood. - - [_A sound is heard like the wing-strokes of great - birds._ - - BIRD-CRIES. - - Comes he now, Boyg? - - THE VOICE. - - Ay, step by step. - - BIRD-CRIES. - - All our sisters far off! Gather here to the tryst! - - PEER. - - If you’d save me now, lass, you must do it quick! - Gaze not adown so, lowly and bending.— - Your clasp-book! Hurl it straight into his eyes! - - BIRD-CRIES. - - He totters! - - THE VOICE. - - We have him. - - BIRD-CRIES. - - Sisters! Make haste! - - PEER. - - Too dear the purchase one pays for life - In such a heart-wasting hour of strife. - [_Sinks down._ - - BIRD-CRIES. - - Boyg, there he’s fallen! Seize him! Seize him! - - [_A sound of bells and of psalm-singing is heard far - away._ - - THE BOYG. - [_Shrinks up to nothing, and says in a gasp_:] - - He was too strong. There were women behind him. - - - SCENE EIGHTH. - - - _Sunrise. The mountain-side in front of ÅSE’S sæter. The door is - shut; all is silent and deserted._ - - _PEER GYNT is lying asleep by the wall of the sæter._ - - PEER. - [_Wakens, and looks about him with dull and heavy - eyes. He spits._] - - What wouldn’t I give for a pickled herring! - - [_Spits again, and at the same moment catches sight of - HELGA, who appears carrying a basket of food._ - - Ha, child, are you there? What is it you want? - - HELGA. - - It is Solveig—— - - PEER. - [_Jumping up._] - - Where is _she_? - - HELGA. - - Behind the sæter. - - SOLVEIG. - [_Unseen._] - - If you come nearer, I’ll run away! - - PEER. - [_Stopping short._] - - Perhaps you’re afraid I might take you in my arms? - - SOLVEIG. - - For shame! - - PEER. - - Do you know where I was last night?— - Like a horse-fly the Dovrë-King’s daughter is after me. - - SOLVEIG. - - Then it was well that the bells were set ringing. - - PEER. - - Peer Gynt’s not the lad they can lure astray.— - What do you say? - - HELGA. - [_Crying._] - - Oh, she’s running away! - [_Running after her._ - Wait! - - PEER. - [_Catches her by the arm._] - - Look here, what I have in my pocket! - A silver button, child! You shall have it,— - Only speak for me! - - HELGA. - - Let me be; let me go! - - PEER. - - There you have it. - - HELGA. - - Let go; there’s the basket of food. - - PEER. - - God pity you if you don’t—— - - HELGA. - - Uf, how you scare me! - - PEER. - [_Gently; letting her go._] - - No, I only meant: beg her not to forget me! - [_HELGA runs off._ - - ------ - - Footnotes: - ------ - -Footnote 43: - - See note on page 35. - -Footnote 44: - - “Blir der Helg når en dig ser?” literally, “Does it become a - holy-day (or holy-tide) when one sees you?” - -Footnote 45: - - A malevolent water-monster. - -Footnote 46: - - _Sæter_—a châlet, or small mountain farm, where the cattle are - sent to pasture in the summer months. - -Footnote 47: - - See note, p. 29. - -Footnote 48: - - See Appendix. - -Footnote 49: - - Pronounce _Vaal-fyeld_. - -Footnote 50: - - Pronounce Broasë. - -Footnote 51: - - Kicking the rafters is a much-admired exploit in peasant - dancing. See note, page 30. - -Footnote 52: - - Literally, “Better than our reputation.” - -Footnote 53: - - “Ustyggelig stygt.” “Ustyggelig” seems to be what Mr. Lewis - Carroll calls a portmanteau word, compounded of “usigelig” = - unspeakable, and “styg” = ugly. The words might be rendered - “beyond grimness grim.” - -Footnote 54: - - See Introduction and Appendix. - -Footnote 55: - - Rendered harmless by magical anointing. - -Footnote 56: - - “Atter og fram, det er lige langt;— - ud og ind, det er lige trangt!” - -Footnote 57: - - “Med lempe,” literally “by gentleness” or “easy-goingness.” - “Quiescence” is somewhere near the idea. - ------ - - - - - ACT THIRD. - - - - - SCENE FIRST. - - _Deep in the pine-woods. Grey autumn weather. Snow is falling._ - - _PEER GYNT stands in his shirt-sleeves, felling timber._ - - PEER. - [_Hewing at a large fir-tree with twisted branches._] - - Oh ay, you are tough, you ancient churl; - But it’s all in vain, for you’ll soon be down. - [_Hews at it again._ - I see well enough you’ve a chain-mail shirt, - But I’ll hew it through, were it never so stout.— - Ay, ay, you’re shaking your twisted arms; - You’ve reason enough for your spite and rage; - But none the less you must bend the knee——! - [_Breaks off suddenly._ - Lies! ’Tis an old tree and nothing more. - Lies! It was never a steel-clad churl; - It’s only a fir-tree with fissured bark.— - It is heavy labour this hewing timber; - But the devil and all when you hew and dream too.— - I’ll have done with it all—with this dwelling in mist, - And, broad-awake, dreaming your senses away.— - You’re an outlaw, lad! You are banned to the woods. - [_Hews for a while rapidly._ - Ay, an outlaw, ay. You’ve no mother now - To spread your table and bring your food. - If you’d eat, my lad, you must help yourself, - Fetch your rations raw from the wood and stream, - Split your own fir-roots[[58] and light your own fire, - Bustle around, and arrange and prepare things. - Would you clothe yourself warmly, you must stalk your deer; - Would you found you a house, you must quarry the stones; - Would you build up its walls, you must fell the logs, - And shoulder them all to the building-place.— - [_His axe sinks down; he gazes straight in - front of him._ - Brave shall the building be. Tower and vane - Shall rise from the roof-tree, high and fair. - And then I will carve, for the knob on the gable, - A mermaid, shaped like a fish from the navel. - Brass shall there be on the vane and the door-locks. - Glass I must see and get hold of too. - Strangers, passing, shall ask amazed: - What is that glittering far on the hillside? - [_Laughs angrily._ - Devil’s own lies! There they come again. - You’re an outlaw, lad! - [_Hewing vigorously._ - A bark-thatched hovel - Is shelter enough both in rain and frost. - [_Looks up at the tree._ - Now he stands wavering. There; only a kick, - And he topples and measures his length on the ground;— - The thick-swarming undergrowth shudders around him! - - [_Begins lopping the branches from the trunk; suddenly - he listens, and stands motionless with his axe in - the air._ - - There’s some one after me;—Ay, are you that sort, - Old Hegstad-churl; would you play me false? - [_Crouches behind the tree, and peeps over it._ - A lad! One only. He seems afraid. - He peers all round him. What’s that he hides - ’Neath his jacket? A sickle. He stops and looks round,— - Now he lays his hand on a fence-rail flat. - What’s this now? Why does he lean like that——? - Ugh, ugh! Why, he’s chopped his finger off! - A whole finger off!—He bleeds like an ox.— - Now he takes to his heels with his fist in a clout. - [_Rises._ - What a devil of a lad! An unmendable[59] finger! - Right off! And with no one compelling him to it! - Ho, now I remember! It’s only thus - You can ’scape from having to serve the King. - That’s it. They wanted to send him soldiering, - And of course the lad didn’t want to go.— - But to chop off——? To sever for good and all——? - Ay, think of it—wish it done—will it to boot,— - But do it——! No, that’s past my understanding! - - [_Shakes his head a little; then goes on with his work._ - - - - - SCENE SECOND. - - _A room in ÅSE’S house. Everything in disorder; boxes standing - open; wearing apparel strewn around. A cat is lying on the - bed._ - - _ÅSE and the COTTAR’S WIFE are hard at work packing things - together and putting them straight._ - - ÅSE. - [_Running to one side._] - - Kari, come here! - - KARI. - - What now? - - ÅSE. - [_On the other side._] - - Come here——? - Where is——? Where shall I find——? Tell me where——? - What am I seeking? I’m out of my wits! - Where is the key of the chest? - - KARI. - - In the key hole. - - ÅSE. - - What is that rumbling? - - KARI. - - The last cart-load - They’re driving to Hegstad. - - ÅSE. - [_Weeping._] - - How glad I’d be - In the black chest myself to be driven away! - Oh, what must a mortal abide and live through! - God help me in mercy; The whole house is bare! - What the Hegstad-churl left now the Bailiff[60] has taken. - Not even the clothes on my back have they spared. - Fie! Shame on them all that have judged so hardly! - [_Seats herself on the edge of the bed._ - Both the land and the farm-place are lost to our line; - The old man was hard, but the law was still harder;— - There was no one to help me, and none would show mercy; - Peer was away; not a soul to give counsel. - - KARI. - - But here, in this house, you may dwell till you die. - - ÅSE. - - Ay, the cat and I live on charity. - - KARI. - - God help you, mother; your Peer’s cost you dear. - - ÅSE. - - Peer? Why, you’re out of your senses, sure! - Ingrid came home none the worse in the end. - The right thing had been to hold Satan to reckoning;— - He was the sinner, ay, he and none other; - The ugly beast tempted my poor boy astray! - - KARI. - - Had I not better send word to the parson? - Mayhap you’re worse than you think you are. - - ÅSE. - - To the parson? Truly I almost think so. - [_Starts up._ - But, oh God, I can’t! I’m the boy’s own mother; - And help him I must; it’s no more than my duty; - I must do what I can when the rest forsake him. - They’ve left him his coat; I must patch it up. - I wish I dared snap up the fur-rug as well! - What’s come of the hose? - - KARI. - - They are there, ’mid that rubbish. - - ÅSE. - [_Rummaging about._] - - Why, what have we here? I declare it’s an old - Casting-ladle, Kari! With this he would play - Button-moulder, would melt, and then shape, and then stamp them. - One day—there was company—in the boy came, - And begged of his father a lump of tin. - “Not tin,” says Jon, “but King Christian’s coin; - Silver; to show you’re the son of Jon Gynt.” - God pardon him, Jon; he was drunk, you see, - And then he cared neither for tin nor for gold. - Here are the hose. Oh, they’re nothing but holes; - They want darning, Kari! - - KARI. - - Indeed but they do. - - ÅSE. - - When that is done, I must get to bed; - I feel so broken, and frail, and ill—— - [_Joyfully._ - Two woollen-shirts, Kari;—they’ve passed them by! - - KARI. - - So they have indeed. - - ÅSE. - - It’s a bit of luck. - One of the two you may put aside; - Or rather, I think we’ll e’en take them both;— - The one he has on is so worn and thin. - - KARI. - - But oh, Mother Åse, I fear it’s a sin. - - ÅSE. - - Maybe; but remember the priest holds out - Pardon for this and our other sinnings. - - - SCENE THIRD. - - - _In front of a settlers newly-built hut in the forest. A - reindeer’s horns over the door. The snow is lying deep - around. It is dusk._ - - _PEER GYNT is standing outside the door, fastening a large - wooden bar to it._ - - PEER. - [_Laughing between whiles._] - - Bars I must fix me; bars that can fasten - The door against troll-folk, and men, and women. - Bars I must fix me; bars that can shut out - All the cantankerous little hobgoblins.— - They come with the darkness, they knock and they rattle: - Open, Peer Gynt, we’re as nimble as thoughts are! - ’Neath the bedstead we bustle, we rake in the ashes, - Down the chimney we hustle like fiery-eyed dragons. - Hee-hee! Peer Gynt; think you staples and planks - Can shut out cantankerous hobgoblin-thoughts? - - [_SOLVEIG comes on snow-shoes over the heath; she has a - shawl over her head, and a bundle in her hand._ - - SOLVEIG. - - God prosper your labour. You must not reject me. - You sent for me hither, and so you must take me. - - PEER. - - Solveig! It cannot be——! Ay, but it is!— - And you’re not afraid to come near to me! - - SOLVEIG. - - One message you sent me by little Helga; - Others came after in storm and in stillness. - All that your mother told bore me a message, - That brought forth others when dreams sank upon me. - Nights full of heaviness, blank, empty days, - Brought me the message that now I must come. - It seemed as though life had been quenched down there; - I could nor laugh nor weep from the depths of my heart. - I knew not for sure how you might be minded; - I knew but for sure what I should do and must do. - - PEER. - - But your father? - - SOLVEIG. - - In all of God’s wide earth - I have none I can call either father or mother. - I have loosed me from all of them. - - PEER. - - Solveig, you fair one— - And to come to me? - - SOLVEIG. - - Ay, to you alone; - You must be all to me, friend and consoler. - [_In tears._ - The worst was leaving my little sister;— - But parting from father was worse, still worse; - And worst to leave her at whose breast I was borne;— - Oh no, God forgive me, the worst I must call - The sorrow of leaving them all, ay all! - - PEER. - - And you know the doom that was passed in spring? - It forfeits my farm and my heritage. - - SOLVEIG. - - Think you for heritage, goods, and gear, - I forsook the paths all my dear ones tread? - - PEER. - - And know you the compact? Outside the forest - Whoever may meet me may seize me at will. - - SOLVEIG. - - I ran upon snow-shoes; I asked my way on; - They said “Whither go you?” I answered, “I go home.” - - PEER. - - Away, away then with nails and planks! - No need now for bars against hobgoblin-thoughts. - If you dare dwell with the hunter here, - I know the hut will be blessed from ill. - Solveig! Let me look at you! Not too near! - Only look at you! Oh, but you are bright and pure! - Let me lift you! Oh, but you are fine and light! - Let me carry you, Solveig, and I’ll never be tired! - I will not soil you. With outstretched arms - I will hold you far out from me, lovely and warm one! - Oh, who would have thought I could draw you to me,— - Ah, but I have longed for you, daylong and nightlong. - Here you may see I’ve been hewing and building;— - It must down again, dear; it is ugly and mean—— - - SOLVEIG. - - Be it mean or brave,—here is all to my mind. - One so lightly draws breath in the teeth of the wind. - Down below it was airless; one felt as though choked; - That was partly what drove me in fear from the dale. - But here, with the fir-branches soughing o’erhead,— - What a stillness and song!—I am here in my home. - - PEER. - - And know you that surely? For all your days? - - SOLVEIG. - - The path I have trodden leads back nevermore. - - PEER. - - You are mine then! In! In the room let me see you! - Go in! I must go to fetch fir-roots[61] for fuel. - Warm shall the fire be and bright shall it shine, - You shall sit softly and never be a-cold. - - [_He opens the door; SOLVEIG goes in. He stands still - for a while, then laughs aloud with joy and leaps - into the air._ - - PEER. - - My king’s daughter! Now I have found her and won her! - Hei! Now the palace shall rise, deeply founded! - - _He seizes his axe and moves away; at the same moment an - OLD-LOOKING WOMAN, in a tattered green gown, comes - out from the wood; an UGLY BRAT, with an ale-flagon - in his hand, limps after, holding on to her skirt._ - - THE WOMAN. - - Good evening, Peer Lightfoot! - - PEER. - - What is it? Who’s there? - - THE WOMAN. - - Old friends of yours, Peer Gynt! My home is near by. - We are neighbours. - - PEER. - - Indeed! That is more than I know. - - THE WOMAN. - - Even as your hut was builded, mine built itself too. - - PEER. - [_Going._] - - I’m in haste—— - - THE WOMAN. - - Yes, that you are always, my lad! - But I’ll trudge behind you and catch you at last. - - PEER. - - You’re mistaken, good woman! - - THE WOMAN. - - I was so before; - I was when you promised such mighty fine things. - - PEER. - - I promised——? What devil’s own nonsense is this? - - THE WOMAN. - - You’ve forgotten the night when you drank with my sire? - You’ve forgot——? - - PEER. - - I’ve forgot what I never have known. - What’s this that you prate of? When last did we meet? - - THE WOMAN. - - When last we met was when first we met. - [_To THE BRAT._] - Give your father a drink; he is thirsty, I’m sure. - - PEER. - - Father? You’re drunk, woman! Do you call him——? - - THE WOMAN. - - I should think you might well know the pig by its skin! - Why, where are your eyes? Can’t you see that he’s lame - In his shank, just as you too are lame in your soul? - - PEER. - - Would you have me believe——? - - THE WOMAN. - - Would you wriggle away——? - - PEER. - - This long-leggëd urchin——! - - THE WOMAN. - - He’s shot up apace. - - PEER. - - Dare you, you troll-snout, father on me——? - - THE WOMAN. - - Come now, Peer Gynt, you’re as rude as an ox! - [_Weeping._ - Is it my fault if no longer I’m fair, - As I was when you lured me on hillside and lea? - Last fall, in my labour, the Fiend held my back, - And so ’twas no wonder I came out a fright. - But if you would see me as fair as before, - You have only to turn yonder girl out of doors, - Drive her clean out of your sight and your mind;— - Do but this, dear my love, and I’ll soon lose my snout! - - PEER. - - Begone from me, troll-witch! - - THE WOMAN. - - Ay, see if I do! - - PEER. - - I’ll split your skull open——! - - THE WOMAN. - - Just try if you dare! - Ho-ho, Peer Gynt, I’ve no fear of blows! - Be sure I’ll return every day of the year. - Through the door, set ajar, I’ll peep in at you both. - When you’re sitting with your girl on the fireside bench,— - When you’re tender, Peer Gynt,—when you’d pet and caress her,— - I’ll seat myself by you, and ask for my share. - She there and I—we will take you by turns. - Farewell, dear my lad, you can marry to-morrow! - - PEER. - - You nightmare of hell! - - THE WOMAN. - - By-the-bye, I forgot! - You must rear your own youngster, you light-footed scamp! - Little imp, will you go to your father? - - THE BRAT. - [_Spits at him._] - - Faugh! - I’ll chop you with my hatchet; only wait, only wait! - - THE WOMAN. - [_Kisses THE BRAT._] - - What a head he has got on his shoulders, the dear! - You’ll be dad’s living image when once you’re a man! - - PEER. - [_Stamping._] - - Oh, would you were as far——! - - THE WOMAN. - - As we now are near? - - PEER. - [_Clenching his hands._] - - And all this——! - - THE WOMAN. - - For nothing but thoughts and desires! - It is hard on you, Peer! - - PEER. - - It is worst for another!— - Solveig, my fairest, my purest gold! - - THE WOMAN. - - Oh ay, ’tis the guiltless must smart, said the devil: - His mother boxed his ears when his father was drunk! - - [_She trudges off into the thicket with THE BRAT, who - throws the flagon at PEER GYNT._ - - PEER. - [_After a long silence._] - - The Boyg said, “Go roundabout!”—so one must here.— - There fell my fine palace, with crash and clatter! - There’s a wall around her whom I stood so near, - Of a sudden all’s ugly—my joy has grown old.— - Roundabout, lad! There’s no way to be found - Right through all this, from where you stand to her. - Right through? H’m, surely there should be one. - There’s a text on repentance, unless I mistake. - But what? What is it? I haven’t the book, - I’ve forgotten it mostly, and here there is none - That can guide me aright in the pathless wood.— - Repentance? And maybe ’twould take whole years - Ere I fought my way through. ’Twere a meagre life, that. - To shatter what’s radiant, and lovely, and pure, - And clinch it together in fragments and shards? - You can do it with a fiddle, but not with a bell. - Where you’d have the sward green, you must mind not to trample. - ’Twas nought but a lie though, that witch-snout business! - Now all that foulness is well out of sight.— - Ay, out of sight maybe, but not out of mind. - Thoughts will sneak stealthily in at my heel. - Ingrid! And the three, they that danced on the heights! - Will they too want to join us? With vixenish spite - Will they claim to be folded, like her, to my breast, - To be tenderly lifted on outstretched arms? - Roundabout, lad; though my arms were as long - As the root of the fir, or the pine-tree’s stem,— - I think even then I should hold her too near - To set her down pure and untarnished again.— - I must roundabout here, then, as best I may, - And see that it bring me nor gain nor loss. - One must put such things from one, and try to forget.— - - [_Goes a few steps towards the hut, but stops again._ - - Go in after this? So befouled and disgraced? - Go in with that troll-rabble after me still? - Speak, yet be silent; confess, yet conceal——? - [_Throws away his axe._ - It’s a holy-day evening. For me to keep tryst, - Such as now I am, would be sacrilege. - - SOLVEIG. - [_In the doorway._] - - Are you coming? - - PEER. - [_Half aloud._] - - Roundabout! - - SOLVEIG. - - What? - - PEER. - - You must wait. - It is dark, and I’ve got something heavy to fetch. - - SOLVEIG. - - Wait; I will help you; the burden we’ll share. - - PEER. - - No, stay where you are! I must bear it alone. - - SOLVEIG. - - But don’t go too far, dear! - - PEER. - - Be patient, my girl; - Be my way long or short—you must wait. - - SOLVEIG. - [_Nodding to him as he goes._] - - Yes, I’ll wait! - - [_PEER GYNT goes down the wood-path. SOLVEIG remains - standing in the open half-door._ - - - SCENE FOURTH. - - - _ÅSE’S room. Evening. The room is lighted by a wood fire on the - open hearth. A cat is lying on a chair at the foot of the - bed._ - - _ÅSE lies in the bed, fumbling about restlessly with her hands - on the coverlet._ - - ÅSE. - - Oh, Lord my God, isn’t he coming? - The time drags so drearily on. - I have no one to send with a message; - And I’ve much, oh so much, to say. - I haven’t a moment to lose now! - So quickly! Who could have foreseen - Oh me, if I only were certain - I’d not been too strict with him! - - PEER GYNT. - [_Enters._] - - Good evening! - - ÅSE. - - The Lord give you gladness! - You’ve come then, my boy, my dear! - But how dare you show face in the valley? - You know your life’s forfeit here. - - PEER. - - Oh, life must e’en go as it may go; - I felt that I must look in. - - ÅSE. - - Ay, now Kari is put to silence, - And I can depart in peace! - - PEER. - - Depart? Why, what are you saying? - Where is it you think to go? - - ÅSE. - - Alas, Peer, the end is nearing; - I have but a short time left. - - PEER. - [_Writhing, and walking towards the back of the room._] - - See there now! I’m fleeing from trouble; - I thought at least _here_ I’d be free——! - Are your hands and your feet a-cold, then? - - ÅSE. - - Ay, Peer; all will soon be o’er.— - When you see that my eyes are glazing, - You must close them carefully. - And then you must see to my coffin; - And be sure it’s a fine one, dear. - Ah no, by-the-bye—— - - PEER. - - Be quiet! - There’s time yet to think of that. - - ÅSE. - - Ay, ay. - [_Looks restlessly round the room._ - Here you see the little - They’ve left us! It’s like them, just. - - PEER. - [_With a writhe._] - - Again! - [_Harshly._ - Well, I know it was my fault. - What’s the use of reminding me? - - ÅSE. - - You! No, that accursed liquor, - From that all the mischief came! - Dear my boy, you know you’d been drinking; - And then no one knows what he does; - And besides, you’d been riding the reindeer; - No wonder your head was turned! - - PEER. - - Ay, ay; of that yarn enough now. - Enough of the whole affair. - All that’s heavy we’ll let stand over - Till after—some other day. - [_Sits on the edge of the bed._ - Now, mother, we’ll chat together; - But only of this and that,— - Forget what’s awry and crooked, - And all that is sharp and sore.— - Why see now, the same old pussy - So she is alive then, still? - - ÅSE. - - She makes such a noise o’ nights now; - You know what that bodes, my boy! - - PEER. - _Changing the subject._] - - What news is there here in the parish? - - ÅSE. - [_Smiling._] - - There’s somewhere about, they say, - A girl who would fain to the uplands—— - - PEER. - [_Hastily._] - - Mads Moen, is he content? - - ÅSE. - - They say that she hears and heeds not - The old people’s prayers and tears. - You ought to look in and see them;— - You, Peer, might perhaps bring help—— - - PEER. - - The smith, what’s become of him now? - - ÅSE. - - Don’t talk of that filthy smith. - Her name I would rather tell you, - The name of the girl, you know—— - - PEER. - - Nay, now we will chat together, - But only of this and that,— - Forget what’s awry and crooked, - And all that is sharp and sore. - Are you thirsty? I’ll fetch you water. - Can you stretch you? The bed is short. - Let me see;—if I don’t believe, now, - It’s the bed that I had when a boy! - Do you mind, dear, how oft in the evenings - You sat at my bedside here, - And spread the fur-coverlet o’er me, - And sang many a lilt and lay? - - ÅSE. - - Ay, mind you? And then we played sledges, - When your father was far abroad. - The coverlet served for sledge-apron, - And the floor for an ice-bound fiord. - - PEER. - - Ah, but the best of all, though,— - Mother, you mind that too? - The best was the fleet-foot horses—— - - ÅSE. - - Ay, think you that I’ve forgot?— - It was Kari’s cat that we borrowed; - It sat on the log-scooped chair—— - - PEER. - - To the castle west of the moon, and - The castle east of the sun, - To Soria-Moria Castle - The road ran both high and low. - A stick that we found in the closet, - For a whip-shaft you made it serve. - - ÅSE. - - Right proudly I perked on the box-seat—— - - PEER. - - Ay, ay; you threw loose the reins, - And kept turning round as we travelled, - And asked me if I was cold. - God bless you, ugly old mother,— - You were ever a kindly soul——! - What’s hurting you now? - - ÅSE. - - My back aches, - Because of the hard, bare boards. - - PEER. - - Stretch yourself; I’ll support you. - There now, you’re lying soft. - - ÅSE. - [_Uneasily._] - - No, Peer, I’d be moving! - - PEER. - - Moving? - - ÅSE. - - Ay, moving; ’tis ever my wish. - - PEER. - - Oh, nonsense! Spread o’er you the bed-fur. - Let me sit at your bedside here. - There; now we’ll shorten the evening - With many a lilt and lay. - - ÅSE. - - Best bring from the closet the prayer-book: - I feel so uneasy of soul. - - PEER. - - In Soria-Moria Castle - The King and the Prince give a feast. - On the sledge-cushions lie and rest you; - I’ll drive you there over the heath—— - - ÅSE. - - But, Peer dear, am I invited? - - PEER. - - Ay, that we are, both of us. - - [_He throws a string round the back of the chair on - which the cat is lying, takes up a stick, and seats - himself at the foot of the bed._ - - Gee-up! Will you stir yourself, Black-boy? - Mother, you’re not a-cold? - Ay, ay; by the pace one knows it, - When Granë[62] begins to go! - - ÅSE. - - Why, Peer, what is it that’s ringing——? - - PEER. - - The glittering sledge-bells, dear! - - ÅSE. - - Oh, mercy, how hollow it’s rumbling - - PEER. - - We’re just driving over a fiord. - - ÅSE. - - I’m afraid! What is that I hear rushing - And sighing so strange and wild? - - PEER. - - It’s the sough of the pine-trees, mother, - On the heath. Do you but sit still. - - ÅSE. - - There’s a sparkling and gleaming afar now; - Whence comes all that blaze of light. - - PEER. - - From the castle’s windows and doorways. - Don’t you hear, they are dancing? - - ÅSE. - - Yes. - - PEER. - - Outside the door stands St. Peter, - And prays you to enter in. - - ÅSE. - - Does he greet us? - - PEER. - - He does, with honour, - And pours out the sweetest wine. - - ÅSE. - - Wine! Has he cakes as well, Peer? - - PEER. - - Cakes? Ay, a heaped-up dish. - And the dean’s wife[63] is getting ready - Your coffee and your dessert. - - ÅSE. - - Lord, Lord! shall we two come together? - - PEER. - - As freely as ever you will. - - ÅSE. - - Oh, deary, Peer, what a frolic - You’re driving me to, poor soul! - - PEER. - [_Cracking his whip._] - - Gee-up; will you stir yourself, Black-boy! - - ÅSE. - - Peer, dear, you’re driving right? - - PEER. - [_Cracking his whip again._] - - Ay, broad is the way. - - ÅSE. - - This journey, - It makes me so weak and tired. - - PEER. - - There’s the castle rising before us; - The drive will be over soon. - - ÅSE. - - I will lie back and close my eyes then, - And trust me to you, my boy! - - PEER. - - Come up with you, Granë, my trotter! - In the castle the throng is great; - They bustle and swarm to the gateway: - Peer Gynt and his mother are here! - What say you, Master Saint Peter? - Shall mother not enter in? - You may search a long time, I tell you, - Ere you find such an honest old soul. - Myself I don’t want to speak of; - I can turn at the castle gate. - If you’ll treat me, I’ll take it kindly; - If not, I’ll go off just as pleased. - I have made up as many flim-flams - As the devil at the pulpit desk, - And called my old mother a hen, too, - Because she would cackle and crow. - But her you shall honour and reverence, - And make her at home indeed; - There comes not a soul to beat her - From the parishes nowadays.— - Ho-ho; here comes God the Father! - Saint Peter! you’re in for it now! - [_In a deep voice._ - “Have done with these jack-in-office airs, sir; - Mother Åse shall enter free!” - [_Laughs loudly, and turns towards his mother._ - Ay, didn’t I know what would happen? - Now they dance to another tune! - [_Uneasily._ - Why, what makes your eyes so glassy? - Mother! Have you gone out of your wits——? - [_Goes to the head of the bed._ - You mustn’t lie there and stare so——! - Speak, mother; it’s I, your boy! - - [_Feels her forehead and hands cautiously; then throws - the string on the chair, and says softly_: - - Ay, ay!—You can rest yourself, Granë; - For e’en now the journey’s done. - [_Closes her eyes, and bends over her._ - For all of your days I thank you, - For beatings and lullabys! - But see, you must thank me back, now— - [_Presses his cheek against her mouth._ - There; that was the driver’s fare.[64] - - THE COTTAR’S WIFE. - [_Entering._] - - What? Peer! Ah, then we are over - The worse of the sorrow and need! - Dear Lord, but she’s sleeping soundly— - Or can she be——? - - PEER. - - Hush; she is dead. - - [_KARI weeps besides the body; PEER GYNT walks up and - down the room for some time; at last he stops beside - the bed._ - - PEER. - - See mother buried with honour. - I must try to fare forth from here. - - KARI. - - Are you faring afar? - - PEER. - - To seaward. - - KARI. - - So far! - - PEER. - - Ay, and further still. - [_He goes._ - - ------ - - Footnotes: - ------ - -Footnote 58: - - “Tyri,” resinous pine-wood which burns with a bright blaze. - -Footnote 59: - - “Umistelig”—unlosable, indispensable, irreplaceable. - -Footnote 60: - - “Lensmand,” the lowest functionary in the Norwegian official - scale—a sort of parish officer. - -Footnote 61: - - See note, p. 92. - -Footnote 62: - - Granë (Grani) was the name of Sigurd Fafnirsbane’s horse, - descended from Odin’s Sleipnir. Sigurd’s Granë was grey; Peer - Gynt calls his “Svarten,” Black-boy, or Blackey.—See the - “Volsunga Saga,” translated by Morris and Magnussen. Camelot - edition, p. 43. - -Footnote 63: - - “Salig provstinde,” literally “the late Mrs. Provost.” - -Footnote 64: - - _Tak for skyds_, literally “thanks for the drive.” - ------ - - - - - ACT FOURTH - - SCENE FIRST. - - _On the south-west coast of Morocco. A palm-grove. Under an - awning, on ground covered with matting, a table spread for - dinner. Further back in the grove hammocks are slung. In - the offing lies a steam-yacht, flying the Norwegian and - American colours. A jolly-boat drawn up on the beach. It - is towards sunset._ - - _PEER GYNT, a handsome middle-aged gentleman, in an elegant - travelling-dress, with a gold-rimmed double eyeglass - hanging at his waistcoat, is doing the honours at the head - of the table. MR. COTTON,_[65] _MONSIEUR BALLON, HERR VON - EBERKOPF, and HERR TRUMPETERSTRÅLE,_[66] _are seated at - the table finishing dinner._ - - PEER GYNT. - - Drink, gentlemen! If man is made - For pleasure, let him take his fill then. - You know ’tis written: Lost is lost, - And gone is gone——. What may I hand you? - - TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. - - As host you’re princely, Brother Gynt! - - PEER. - - I share the honour with my cash, - With cook and steward—— - - MR. COTTON. - - Very well;[67] - Let’s pledge a toast to all the four! - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - Monsieur,[68] you have a _gout_,[68] a _ton_,[68] - That nowadays is seldom met with - Among men living _en garçon_,—[68] - A certain—what’s the word——? - - VON EBERKOPF. - - A dash, - A tinge of free soul-contemplation, - And cosmopolitanisation,[69] - An outlook through the cloudy rifts - By narrow prejudice unhemmed, - A stamp of high illumination, - An _Ur-Natur_,[68] with lore of life, - To crown the trilogy, united. - _Nicht wahr_, Monsieur, ’twas that you meant? - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - Yes, very possible; not quite - So loftily it sounds in French. - - VON EBERKOPF. - - _Ei was!_[70] That language is so stiff.— - But the phenomenon’s final cause - If we would seek—— - - PEER. - - It’s found already. - The reason is that I’m unmarried. - Yes, gentlemen, completely clear - The matter is. What should a man be? - Himself, is my concise reply. - He should regard himself and his. - But can he, as a sumpter-mule[71] - For others’ woe and others’ weal? - - VON EBERKOPF. - - But this same in-and-for-yourself-ness, - I’ll answer for’t, has cost you strife—— - - PEER. - - Ah yes, indeed; in former days; - But always I came off with honour. - Yet one time I ran very near - To being trapped against my will. - I was a brisk and handsome lad, - And she to whom my heart was given, - She was of royal family—— - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - Of royal——? - - PEER. - [_Carelessly._] - - One of those old stocks, - You know the kind—— - - TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. - [_Thumping the table._] - - Those noble-trolls. - - PEER. - [_Shrugging his shoulders_.] - - Old fossil Highnesses who make it - Their pride to keep plebeian blots - Excluded from their line’s escutcheon. - - MR. COTTON. - - Then nothing came of the affair? - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - The family opposed the marriage? - - PEER. - - Far from it! - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - Ah! - - PEER. - [_With forbearance_.] - - You understand - That certain circumstances made for - Their marrying us without delay. - But truth to tell, the whole affair - Was, first to last, distasteful to me. - I’m finical in certain ways, - And like to stand on my own feet. - And when my father-in-law came out - With delicately veiled demands - That I should change my name and station, - And undergo ennoblement, - With much else that was most distasteful, - Not to say quite inacceptable.— - Why then I gracefully withdrew, - Point-blank declined his ultimatum— - And so renounced my youthful bride. - [_Drums on the table with a devout air._ - Yes, yes; there is a ruling Fate! - On that we mortals may rely; - And ’tis a comfortable knowledge. - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - And so the matter ended, eh? - - PEER. - - Oh no, far otherwise I found it; - For busy-bodies mixed themselves, - With furious outcries, in the business. - The juniors of the clan were worst; - With seven of them I fought a duel. - That time I never shall forget, - Though I came through it all in safety. - It cost me blood; but that same blood - Attests the value of my person, - And points encouragingly towards - The wise control of Fate aforesaid. - - VON EBERKOPF. - - Your outlook on the course of life - Exalts you to the rank of thinker. - Whilst the mere commonplace empiric - Sees separately the scattered scenes, - And to the last goes groping on, - You in one glance can focus all things. - One norm[72] to all things you apply. - You point each random rule of life, - Till one and all diverge like rays - From one full-orbed philosophy.— - And you have never been to college? - - PEER. - - I am, as I’ve already said, - Exclusively a self-taught man. - Methodically naught I’ve learned; - But I have thought and speculated, - And done much desultory reading. - I started somewhat late in life, - And then, you know, it’s rather hard - To plough ahead through page on page, - And take in all of everything. - I’ve done my history piecemeal; - I never have had time for more. - And, as one needs in days of trial - Some certainty to place one’s trust in, - I took religion intermittently. - That way it goes more smoothly down. - One should not read to swallow all, - But rather see what one has use for. - - MR. COTTON. - - Ay, that is practical! - - PEER. - [_Lights a cigar._] - - Dear friends, - Just think of my career in general. - In what case came I to the West? - A poor young fellow, empty-handed; - I had to battle sore for bread; - Trust me, I often found it hard. - But life, my friends, ah, life is dear, - And, as the phrase goes, death is bitter. - Well! Luck, you see, was kind to me; - Old Fate, too, was accommodating. - I prospered; and, by versatility, - I prospered better still and better. - In ten years’ time I bore the name - Of Crœsus ’mongst the Charleston shippers. - My fame flew wide from port to port, - And fortune sailed on board my vessels—— - - MR. COTTON. - - What did you trade in? - - PEER. - - I did most - In negro slaves for Carolina, - And idol-images for China. - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - _Fi donc!_[73] - - TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. - - The devil, Uncle Gynt! - - PEER. - - You think, no doubt, the business hovered - On the outer verge of the allowable? - Myself I felt the same thing keenly. - It struck me even as odious. - But, trust me, when you’ve once begun, - It’s hard to break away again. - At any rate it’s no light thing, - In such a vast trade-enterprise, - That keeps whole thousands in employ, - To break off wholly, once for all. - That “once for all” I can’t abide, - But own, upon the other side, - That I have always felt respect - For what are known as consequences; - And that to overstep the bounds - Has ever somewhat daunted me. - Besides, I had begun to age. - Was getting on towards the fifties;— - My hair was slowly growing grizzled; - And, though my health was excellent, - Yet painfully the thought beset me: - Who knows how soon the hour may strike, - The jury-verdict be delivered - That parts the sheep and goats asunder? - What could I do? To stop the trade - With China was impossible. - A plan I hit on—opened straightway - A new trade with the self-same land. - I shipped off idols every spring, - Each autumn sent forth missionaries, - Supplying them with all they needed, - As stockings, Bibles, rum, and rice—— - - MR. COTTON. - - Yes, at a profit? - - PEER. - - Why, of course. - It prospered. Dauntlessly they toiled. - For every idol that was sold - They got a coolie well baptized, - So that the effect was neutralised. - The mission-field lay never fallow, - For still the idol-propaganda - The missionaries held in check. - - MR. COTTON. - - Well, but the African commodities? - - PEER. - - There, too, my ethics won the day. - I saw the traffic was a wrong one - For people of a certain age. - One may drop off before one dreams of it. - And then there were the thousand pitfalls - Laid by the philanthropic camp; - Besides, of course, the hostile cruisers, - And all the wind-and-weather risks. - All this together won the day. - I thought: Now, Peter,[74] reef your sails: - See to it you amend your faults! - So in the South I bought some land, - And kept the last meat-importation, - Which chanced to be a superfine one. - They throve so, grew so fat and sleek, - That ’twas a joy to me, and them too. - Yes, without boasting, I may say - I acted as a father to them,— - And found my profit in so doing. - I built them schools, too, so that virtue - Might uniformly be maintained at - A certain general _niveau_,[74] - And kept strict watch that never its - Thermometer should sink below it. - Now, furthermore, from all this business - I’ve beat a definite retreat;— - I’ve sold the whole plantation, and - It’s tale of live-stock, hide and hair. - At parting, too, I served around, - To big and little, gratis grog,[74] - So men and women all got drunk, - And widows got their snuff as well. - So that is why I trust,—provided - The saying is not idle breath: - Whoso does not do ill, does good,— - My former errors are forgotten, - And I, much more than most, can hold - My misdeeds balanced by my virtues. - - VON EBERKOPF. - [_Clinking glasses with him._] - - How strengthening it is to hear - A principle thus acted out, - Freed from the night of theory, - Unshaken by the outward ferment! - - PEER. - [_Who has been drinking freely during the preceding - passages._] - - We Northland men know how to carry - Our battle through! The key to the art - Of life’s affairs is simply this: - To keep one’s ear close shut against - The ingress of one dangerous viper. - - MR. COTTON. - - What sort of viper, pray, dear friend? - - PEER. - - A little one that slyly wiles you - To tempt the irretrievable. - [_Drinking again._ - The essence of the art of daring, - The art of bravery in act, - Is this: To stand with choice-free foot - Amid the treacherous snares of life,— - To know for sure that other days - Remain beyond the day of battle,— - To know that ever in the rear - A bridge for your retreat stands open. - This theory has borne me on, - Has given my whole career its colour; - And this same theory I inherit, - A race-gift, from my childhood’s home. - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - You are Norwegian? - - PEER. - - Yes, by birth; - But cosmopolitan in spirit. - For fortune such as I’ve enjoyed - I have to thank America. - My amply-furnished library - I owe to Germany’s later schools. - From France, again, I get my waistcoats, - My manners, and my spice of wit,— - From England an industrious hand, - And keen sense for my own advantage. - The Jew has taught me how to wait. - Some taste for _dolce far niente_[75] - I have received from Italy,— - And one time, in a perilous pass, - To eke the measure of my days, - I had recourse to Swedish steel. - - TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. - [_Lifting up his glass._] - - Ay, Swedish steel——? - - VON EBERKOPF. - - The weapon’s wielder - Demands our homage first of all! - - [_They clink glasses and drink with him. The wine begins - to go to his head._ - - MR. COTTON. - - All this is very good indeed;— - But, sir,[75] I’m curious to know - What with your gold you think of doing. - - PEER. - [_Smiling._] - - H’m; doing? Eh? - - ALL FOUR. - [_Coming closer._] - - Yes, let us hear! - - PEER. - - Well, first of all, I want to travel. - You see, that’s why I shipped you four, - To keep me company, at Gibraltar. - I needed such a dancing-choir - Of friends around my gold-calf-altar—— - - VON EBERKOPF. - - Most witty! - - MR. COTTON. - - Well, but no one hoists - His sails for nothing but the sailing. - Beyond all doubt, you have a goal; - And that is——? - - PEER. - - To be Emperor.[76] - - ALL FOUR. - - What? - - PEER. - [_Nodding._] - - Emperor! - - THE FOUR. - - Where? - - PEER. - - O’er all the world. - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - But how, friend——? - - PEER. - - By the might of gold! - That plan is not at all a new one; - It’s been the soul of my career. - Even as a boy, I swept in dreams - Far o’er the ocean on a cloud. - I soared with train and golden scabbard,— - And flopped down on all-fours again. - But still my goal, my friends, stood fast.— - There is a text, or else a saying, - Somewhere, I don’t remember where, - That if you gained the whole wide world, - But lost _yourself_, your gain were but - A garland on a cloven skull. - That is the text—or something like it; - And that remark is sober truth. - - VON EBERKOPF. - - But what then is the Gyntish Self? - - PEER. - - The world behind my forehead’s arch, - In force of which I’m no one else - Than I, no more than God’s the Devil. - - TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. - - I understand now where you’re aiming! - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - Thinker sublime! - - VON EBERKOPF. - - Exalted poet! - - PEER. - [_More and more elevated._] - - The Gyntish Self—it is the host - Of wishes, appetites, desires,— - The Gyntish Self, it is the sea - Of fancies, exigencies, claims, - All that, in short, makes _my_ breast heave, - And whereby I, as I, exist. - But as our Lord requires the clay - To constitute him God o’ the world, - So I, too, stand in need of gold, - If I as Emperor would figure. - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - You have the gold, though? - - PEER. - - Not enough. - Ay, maybe for a nine-days’ flourish, - As Emperor _à la_[77] Lippe-Detmold. - But I must be myself _en bloc_,[77] - Must be the Gynt of all the planet, - Sir Gynt[77] throughout, from top to bottom! - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - [_Enraptured._] - - Possess the earth’s most exquisite beauty! - - VON EBERKOPF. - - All century-old Johannisberger! - - TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. - - And all the blades of Charles the Twelfth! - - MR. COTTON. - - But first a profitable opening - For business—— - - PEER. - - That’s already found; - Our anchoring here supplied me with it. - To-night we set off, northward ho! - The papers I received on board - Have brought me tidings of importance——. - [_Rises with uplifted glass._ - It seems that Fortune ceaselessly - Aids him who has the pluck to seize it—— - - THE GUESTS. - - Well? Tell us——! - - PEER. - - Greece is in revolt. - - ALL FOUR. - [_Springing up._] - - What! Greece——? - - PEER. - - The Greeks have risen in Hellas. - - THE FOUR. - - Hurrah! - - PEER. - - And Turkey’s in a fix! - [_Empties his glass._ - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - To Hellas! Glory’s gate stands open! - I’ll help them with the sword of France! - - VON EBERKOPF. - - And I with war-whoops—from a distance. - - MR. COTTON. - - And I as well—by taking contracts! - - TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. - - Lead on! I’ll find again in Bender - The world-renowned spur-strap-buckles![78] - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - [_Falling on PEER GYNT’S neck._] - - Forgive me, friend, that I at first - Misjudged you quite! - - VON EBERKOPF. - [_Pressing his hands._] - - I, stupid hound, - Took you for next door to a scoundrel! - - MR COTTON. - - Too strong that; only for a fool—— - - TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. - [_Trying to kiss him._] - - I, Uncle, for a specimen - Of Yankee riff-raff’s meanest spawn——! - Forgive me——! - - VON EBERKOPF. - - We’ve been in the dark—— - - PEER. - - What stuff is this? - - VON EBERKOPF. - - We now see gathered - In glory all the Gyntish host - Of wishes, appetites, and desires——! - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - [_Admiringly._] - - So this is being Monsieur[79] Gynt! - - VON EBERKOPF. - [_In the same tone._] - - This I call being Gynt with honour! - - PEER. - - But tell me——? - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - Don’t you understand? - - PEER. - - May I be hanged if I begin to! - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - What? Are you not upon your way - To join the Greeks, with ship and money——? - - PEER. - [_Contemptuously._] - - No, many thanks! I side with strength, - And lend my money to the Turks. - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - Impossible! - - VON EBERKOPF. - - Witty, but a jest! - - PEER. - [_After a short silence, leaning on a chair and - assuming a dignified mien._] - - Come, gentlemen, I think it best - We part before the last remains - Of friendship melt away like smoke. - Who nothing owns will lightly risk it. - When in the world one scarce commands - The strip of earth one’s shadow covers, - One’s born to serve as food for powder. - But when a man stands safely landed, - As I do, then his stake is greater. - Go you to Hellas. I will put you - Ashore, and arm you gratis too. - The more you eke the flames of strife, - The better will it serve my purpose. - Strike home for freedom and for right! - Fight! storm! make hell hot for the Turks;— - And gloriously end your days - Upon the Janissaries lances.— - But _I_—excuse me—— - [_Slaps his pocket._ - I have cash, - And am myself, Sir Peter Gynt.[80] - - [_Puts up his sunshade, and goes into the grove, where - the hammocks are partly visible._] - - TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. - - The swinish cur! - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - No taste for glory——! - - MR. COTTON. - - Oh, glory’s neither here nor there; - But think of the enormous profits - We’d reap if Greece should free herself. - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - I saw myself a conqueror, - By lovely Grecian maids encircled. - - TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. - - Grasped in my Swedish hands, I saw - The great, heroic spur-strap-buckles! - - VON EBERKOPF. - - I my gigantic Fatherland’s - Culture saw spread o’er earth and sea——! - - MR. COTTON. - - The worst’s the loss in solid cash. - God dam![81] I scarce can keep from weeping! - I saw me owner of Olympus. - If to its fame the mountain answers, - There must be veins of copper in it, - That could be opened up again. - And furthermore, that stream Castalia,[82] - Which people talk so much about, - With fall on fall, at lowest reckoning, - Must mean a thousand horse-power good—— - - TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. - - Still I will go! My Swedish sword - Is worth far more than Yankee gold! - - MR. COTTON. - - Perhaps; but, jammed into the ranks, - Amid the press we’d all be drowned; - And then where would the profit be? - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - Accurst! So near to fortune’s summit, - And now stopped short beside its grave! - - MR. COTTON. - [_Shakes his fist towards the yacht._] - - That long black chest holds coffered up - The nabob’s golden nigger-sweat——! - - VON EBERKOPF. - - A royal notion! Quick! Away! - It’s all up with his empire now! - Hurrah! - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - What would you? - - VON EBERKOPF. - - Seize the power! - The crew can easily be bought. - On board then. I annex the yacht! - - MR. COTTON. - - You—what——? - - VON EBERKOPF. - - I grab the whole concern! - [_Goes down to the jolly-boat._ - - MR. COTTON. - - Why then self-interest commands me - To grab my share. - [_Goes after him._ - - TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. - - What scoundrelism! - - MONSIEUR BALLON. - - A scurvy business—but—_enfin_![83] - [_Follows the others._ - - TRUMPETERSTRÅLE. - - I’ll have to follow, I suppose,— - But I protest to all the world——![84] - [_Follows._ - - - SCENE SECOND. - - - _Another part of the coast. Moonlight with drifting clouds. The - yacht is seen far out, under full steam._ - - _PEER GYNT comes running along the beach; now pinching his arms, - now gazing out to sea._ - - PEER. - - A nightmare!—Delusion!—I’ll soon be awake! - She’s standing to sea! And at furious speed!— - Mere delusion! I’m sleeping! I’m dizzy and drunk! - [_Clenches his hands._ - It’s not possible I should be going to die! - [_Tearing his hair._ - A dream! I’m determined it shall be a dream! - Oh, horror! It’s only too real, worse luck! - My brute-beasts of friends——! Do but hear me, oh Lord! - Since though art so wise and so righteous——! Oh judge——! - [_With upstretched arms._ - It is _I_, Peter[85] Gynt! Oh, our Lord, give but heed! - Hold thy hand o’er me, Father; or else I must perish! - Make them back the machine! Make them lower the gig! - Stop the robbers! Make something go wrong with the rigging! - Hear me! Let other folks’ business lie over! - The world can take care of itself for the time!— - I’m blessed if he hears me! He’s deaf as his wont is! - Here’s a nice thing! A God that is bankrupt of help! - [_Beckons upwards._ - Hist; I’ve abandoned the nigger-plantation! - And missionaries I’ve exported to Asia! - Surely one good turn should be worth another! - Oh, help me on board——! - - [_A jet of fire shoots into the air from the yacht, - followed by thick clouds of smoke; a hollow report - is heard. PEER GYNT utters a shriek, and sinks down - on the sands. Gradually the smoke clears away; the - ship has disappeared._ - - PEER. - [_Softly, with a pale face._] - - That’s the sword of wrath! - In a crack to the bottom, every soul, man and mouse! - Oh, for ever blest be the lucky chance—— - [_With emotion._ - A chance? No, no, it was more than a chance. - I was to be rescued and they to perish. - Oh, thanks and praise for that thou hast kept me, - Hast cared for me, spite of all my sins!— - [_Draws a deep breath._ - What a marvellous feeling of safety and peace - It gives one to know oneself specially shielded! - But the desert! What about food and drink? - Oh, something I’m sure to find. _He’ll_ see to that. - There’s no cause for alarm;— - [_Loud and insinuatingly._ - _He_ would never allow - A poor little sparrow like me to perish! - Be but lowly of spirit. And give him time. - Leave it all in the Lord’s hands; and don’t be cast down.— - [_With a start of terror._ - Can that be a lion that growled in the reeds——? - [_His teeth chattering._ - No, it wasn’t a lion. - [_Mustering up courage._ - A lion, forsooth! - Those beasts, they’ll take care to keep out of the way. - They know it’s no joke to fall foul of their betters. - They have instinct to guide them;—they feel, what’s a fact, - That it’s dangerous playing with elephants.— - But all the same——. I must find a tree. - There’s a grove of acacias and palms over there; - If I once can climb up, I’ll be sheltered and safe,— - Most of all if I knew but a psalm or two. - [_Clambers up._ - Morning and evening are not alike; - That text has been oft enough weighed and pondered. - [_Seats himself comfortably._ - How blissful to feel so uplifted in spirit! - To think nobly is more than to know oneself rich. - Only trust in him. He knows well what share - Of the chalice of need I can bear to drain. - He takes fatherly thought for my personal weal;— - [_Casts a glance over the sea, and whispers with a sigh_: - But economical—no, that he isn’t! - - - SCENE THIRD. - - - _Night. An encampment of Moroccan troops on the edge of the - desert. Watch-fires, with SOLDIERS resting by them._ - - A SLAVE. - [_Enters, tearing his hair._] - - Gone is the Emperor’s milk-white charger! - - ANOTHER SLAVE. - [_Enters, rending his garments._] - - The Emperor’s sacred robes are stolen! - - AN OFFICER. - [_Enters._] - - A hundred stripes upon the foot-soles - For all who fail to catch the robber! - - [_The troopers mount their horses, and gallop away in - every direction._ - - - SCENE FOURTH. - - - _Daybreak. The grove of acacias and palms._ - - _PEER GYNT in his tree with a broken branch in his hand, trying - to beat off a swarm of monkeys._ - - PEER. - - Confound it! A most disagreeable night. - [_Laying about him._ - Are you there again? This is most accursëd! - Now they’re throwing fruit. No, it’s something else. - A loathsome beast is your Barbary ape! - The Scripture says: Thou shalt watch and fight. - But I’m blest if I can; I am heavy and tired, - [_Is again attacked; impatiently_: - I must put a stopper upon this nuisance! - I must see and get hold of one of these scamps, - Get him hung and skinned, and then dress myself up, - As best I may, in his shaggy hide, - That the others may take me for one of themselves.— - What are we mortals? Motes, no more; - And it’s wisest to follow the fashion a bit.— - Again a rabble! They throng and swarm. - Off with you! Shoo! They go on as though crazy. - If only I had a false tail to put on now,— - Only something to make me a bit like a beast.— - What now? There’s a pattering over my head——! - [_Looks up._ - It’s the grandfather ape,—with his fists full of filth——! - - [_Huddles together apprehensively, and keeps still for a - while. The ape makes a motion; PEER GYNT begins - coaxing and wheedling him, as he might a dog._ - - Ay,—are you there, my good old Bus! - He’s a good beast, he is! He will listen to reason! - He wouldn’t throw;—I should think not, indeed! - It is me! Pip-pip! We are first-rate friends! - Ai-ai! Don’t you hear, I can talk your language? - Bus and I, we are kinsfolk, you see;— - Bus shall have sugar to-morrow——! The beast! - The whole cargo on top of me! Ugh, how disgusting!— - Or perhaps it was food! ’Twas in taste—indefinable; - And taste’s for the most part a matter of habit. - What thinker is it who somewhere says: - You must spit and trust to the force of habit?— - Now here come the small-fry! - [_Hits and slashes around him._ - It’s really too bad - That man, who by rights is the lord of creation, - Should find himself forced to——! O murder! murder! - The old one was bad, but the youngsters are worse! - - - SCENE FIFTH. - - - _Early morning. A stony region, with a view out over the desert. - On one side a cleft in the hill, and a cave._ - - _A THIEF and a RECEIVER hidden in the cleft, with the Emperor’s - horse and robes. The horse, richly caparisoned, is tied to - a stone. Horsemen are seen afar off._ - - THE THIEF. - - The tongues of the lances - All flickering and flashing,— - See, see! - - THE RECEIVER. - - Already my head seems - To roll on the sand-plain! - Woe, woe! - - THE THIEF. - [_Folds his arms over his breast._] - - My father he thieved; - So his son must be thieving. - - THE RECEIVER. - - My father received; - Still his son is receiving.[86] - - THE THIEF. - - Thy lot shalt thou bear still; - Thyself shalt thou be still. - - THE RECEIVER. - [_Listening._] - - Steps in the brushwood! - Flee, flee! But where? - - THE THIEF. - - The cavern is deep, - And the Prophet great! - - [_They make off, leaving the booty behind them. The - horsemen gradually disappear in the distance._ - - PEER GYNT. - [_Enters, cutting a reed whistle._] - - What a delectable morning-tide!— - The dung-beetle’s rolling his ball in the dust; - The snail creeps out of his dwelling-house. - The morning; ay, it has gold in its mouth.— - It’s a wonderful power, when you think of it, - That Nature has given to the light of day. - One feels so secure, and so much more courageous,— - One would gladly, at need, take a bull by the horns.— - What a stillness all round! Ah, the joys of Nature,— - Strange enough I should never have prized them before. - Why go and imprison oneself in a city, - For no end but just to be bored by the mob.— - Just look how the lizards are whisking about, - Snapping, and thinking of nothing at all. - What innocence ev’n in the life of the beasts! - Each fulfils the Creator’s behest unimpeachably, - Preserving its own special stamp undefaced; - Is itself, is itself, both in sport and in strife, - Itself, as it was at his primal: Be! - [_Puts on his eye-glasses._ - A toad. In the middle of a sandstone block. - Petrifaction all around him. His head alone peering. - There he’s sitting and gazing as though through a window - At the world, and is—to himself enough.— - [_Reflectively._ - Enough? To himself——? Where is it that’s written? - I’ve read it, in youth, in some so-called classic. - In the family prayer-book? Or Solomon’s Proverbs? - Alas, I notice that, year by year, - My memory for dates and for places is fading. - [_Seats himself in the shade._ - Here’s a cool spot to rest and to stretch out one’s feet. - Why, look, here are ferns growing—edible roots. - [_Eats a little._ - ’Twould be fitter food for an animal;— - But the text says: Bridle the natural man! - Furthermore it is written: The proud shall be humbled, - And whoso abaseth himself, exalted. - [_Uneasily._ - Exalted? Yes, that’s what will happen with me;— - No other result can so much as be thought of. - Fate will assist me away from this place, - And arrange matters so that I get a fresh start. - This is only a trial; deliverance will follow,— - If only the Lord lets me keep my health. - - [_Dismisses his misgivings, lights a cigar, stretches - himself, and gazes out over the desert._ - - What an enormous, limitless waste!— - Far in the distance an ostrich is striding.— - What can one fancy was really God’s - Meaning in all of this voidness and deadness? - This desert, bereft of all sources of life; - This burnt-up cinder, that profits no one; - This patch of the world, that for ever lies fallow; - This corpse, that never, since earth’s creation, - Has brought its Maker so much as thanks,— - Why was it created?—How spendthrift is Nature!— - Is that sea in the east there, that dazzling expanse - All gleaming? It can’t be; ’tis but a mirage. - The sea’s to the west; it lies piled up behind me, - Dammed out from the desert by a sloping ridge. - [_A thought flashes through his mind._ - Dammed out? Then I could——? The ridge is narrow. - Dammed out? It wants but a gap, a canal,— - Like a flood of life would the waters rush - In through the channel, and fill the desert![87] - Soon would the whole of yon red-hot grave - Spread forth, a breezy and rippling sea. - The oases would rise in the midst, like islands; - Atlas would tower in green cliffs on the north; - Sailing-ships would, like stray birds on the wing, - Skim to the south, on the caravans’ track. - Life-giving breezes would scatter the choking - Vapours, and dew would distil from the clouds. - People would build themselves town on town, - And grass would grow green round the swaying palm-trees. - The southland, behind the Sahara’s wall, - Would make a new seaboard for civilisation. - Steam would set Timbuctoo’s factories spinning; - Bornu would be colonised apace; - The naturalist would pass safely through Habes - In his railway-car to the Upper Nile. - In the midst of my sea, on a fat oasis, - I will replant the Norwegian race; - The Dalesman’s blood is next door to royal; - Arabic crossing will do the rest. - Skirting a bay, on a shelving strand, - I’ll build the chief city, Peeropolis. - The world is decrepit! Now comes the turn - Of Gyntiana, my virgin land! - [_Springs up._ - Had I but capital, soon ’twould be done.— - A gold key to open the gate of the sea! - A crusade against Death! The close-fisted old churl - Shall open the sack he lies brooding upon. - Men rave about freedom in every land;— - Like the ass in the ark, I will send forth a cry - O’er the world, and will baptize to liberty - The beautiful, thrall-bounden coasts that shall be. - I must on! To find capital, eastward or west! - My kingdom—well, half of it, say—for a horse! - [_The horse in the cleft neighs._ - A horse! Ay, and robes!—Jewels too,—and a sword! - [_Goes closer._ - It can’t be! It is though——! But how? I have read, - I don’t quite know where, that the will can move mountains;— - But how about moving a horse as well——? - Pooh! Here stands the horse, that’s a matter of fact;— - For the rest, why, _ab esse ad posse_, et cetera. - [_Puts on the dress and looks down at it._ - Sir Peter—a Turk, too, from top to toe! - Well, one never knows what may happen to one.— - Gee-up, now, Granë, my trusty steed! - [_Mounts the horse._ - Gold-slipper stirrups beneath my feet!— - You may know the great by their riding-gear! - - [_Gallops off into the desert._ - - - SCENE SIXTH. - - - _The tent of an Arab chief, standing alone on an oasis._ - - _PEER GYNT, in his eastern dress, resting on cushions. He is - drinking coffee, and smoking a long pipe. ANITRA, and a - bevy of GIRLS, dancing and singing before him._ - - CHORUS OF GIRLS. - - The Prophet is come! - The Prophet, the Lord, the All-Knowing One, - To us, to us is he come, - O’er the sand-ocean riding! - The Prophet, the Lord, the Unerring One, - To us, to us is he come, - O’er the sand-ocean sailing! - Wake the flute and the drum! - The Prophet, the Prophet is come! - - ANITRA. - - His courser is white as the milk is - That streams in the rivers of Paradise. - Bend every knee! Bow every head! - His eyes are as bright-gleaming, mild-beaming stars. - Yet none earth-born endureth - The rays of those stars in their blinding splendour! - Through the desert he came. - Gold and pearl-drops sprang forth on his breast. - Where he rode there was light. - Behind him was darkness; - Behind him raged drought and the simoom. - He, the glorious one, came! - Through the desert he came, - Like a mortal apparelled. - Kaaba, Kaaba stands void;— - He himself hath proclaimed it! - - THE CHORUS OF GIRLS. - - Wake the flute and the drum! - The Prophet, the Prophet is come! - - [_They continue the dance, to soft music._ - - PEER. - - I have read it in print—and the saying is true— - That no one’s a prophet in his native land.— - This position is very much more to my mind - Than, my life over there ’mong the Charleston merchants. - There was something hollow in the whole affair, - Something foreign at the bottom, something dubious behind it;— - I was never at home in their company, - Nor felt myself really one of the guild. - What tempted me into that galley at all? - To grub and grub in the bins of trade— - As I think it all over, I can’t understand it;— - It _happened_ so; that’s the whole affair.— - To be oneself on a basis of gold - Is no better than founding one’s house on the sand. - For your watch, and your ring, and the rest of your trappings, - The good people fawn on you, grovelling to earth; - They lift their hats to your jewelled breast-pin; - But your ring and your breast-pin are not your Person.—[88] - A prophet; ay, that is a clearer position. - At least one knows on what footing one stands. - If you make a success, it’s yourself that receives - The ovation, and not your pounds-sterling and shillings.[89] - One is what one is, and no nonsense about it; - One owes nothing to chance or to accident, - And needs neither licence nor patent to lean on.— - A prophet; ay, that is the thing for me. - And I slipped so utterly unawares into it,— - Just by coming galloping over the desert, - And meeting these children of nature _en route_. - The Prophet had come to them; so much was clear. - It was really not my intent to deceive——; - There’s a difference ’twixt lies and oracular answers; - And then I can always withdraw again. - I’m in no way bound; it’s a simple matter—; - The whole thing is private, so to speak; - I can go as I came; there’s my horse ready saddled; - I am master, in short, of the situation. - - ANITRA. - [_Approaching the tent-door._] - - Prophet and Master! - - PEER. - - What would my slave? - - ANITRA. - - The sons of the desert await at thy tent-door; - They pray for the light of thy countenance—— - - PEER. - - Stop! - Say in the distance I’d have them assemble; - Say from the distance I hear all their prayers. - Add that I suffer no menfolk in here! - Men, my child, are a worthless crew,— - Inveterate rascals you well may call them! - Anitra, you can’t think how shamelessly - They have swind——I mean they have sinned, my child!—[90] - Well, enough now of that; you may dance for me, damsels! - The Prophet would banish the memories that gall him. - - THE GIRLS. - [_Dancing._] - - The Prophet is good! The Prophet is grieving - For the ill that the sons of the dust have wrought! - The Prophet is mild; to his mildness be praises; - He opens to sinners his Paradise! - - PEER. - [_His eyes following ANITRA during the dance._] - - Legs as nimble as drumsticks flitting. - She’s a dainty morsel indeed, that wench! - It’s true she has somewhat extravagant contours,— - Not quite in accord with the norms of beauty. - But what is beauty? A mere convention,— - A coin made current by time and place. - And just the extravagant seems most attractive - When one of the normal has drunk one’s fill. - In the law-bound one misses all intoxication. - Either plump to excess or excessively lean; - Either parlously young or portentously old;— - The medium is mawkish.— - Her feet—they are not altogether clean; - No more are her arms; in especial one of them. - But that is at bottom no drawback at all. - I should rather call it a qualification— - Anitra, come listen! - - ANITRA. - [_Approaching_] - - Thy handmaiden hears! - - PEER. - - You are tempting, my daughter! The Prophet is touched. - If you don’t believe me, then hear the proof;— - I’ll make you a Houri in Paradise! - - ANITRA. - - Impossible, Lord! - - PEER. - - What? You think I am jesting? - I’m in sober earnest, as true as I live! - - ANITRA. - - But I haven’t a soul. - - PEER. - - Then of course you must get one! - - ANITRA. - - How, Lord? - - PEER. - - Just leave me alone for that;— - I shall look after your education. - No soul? Why, truly you’re not over bright, - As the saying goes. I’ve observed it with pain. - But pooh! for a soul you can always find room. - Come here! let me measure your brain-pan, child.— - There is room, there is room, I was sure there was. - It’s true you never will penetrate - Very deep; to a _large_ soul you’ll scarcely attain;—— - But never you mind; it won’t matter a bit;— - You’ll have plenty to carry you through with credit—— - - ANITRA. - - The Prophet is gracious—— - - PEER. - - You hesitate? Speak! - - ANITRA. - - But I’d rather—— - - PEER. - - Say on; don’t waste time about it! - - ANITRA. - - I don’t care so much about having a soul;— - Give me rather—— - - PEER. - - What, child? - - ANITRA. - [_Pointing to his turban._] - - That lovely opal! - - PEER. - [_Enchanted, handing her the jewel._] - - Anitra! Anitra! true daughter of Eve! - I feel thee magnetic; for I am a man, - And, as a much-esteemed author has phrased it: - “Das Ewig-Weibliche ziehet uns an!”[91] - - - SCENE SEVENTH. - - _A moonlight night. The palm-grove outside ANITRA’S tent._ - - _PEER GYNT is sitting beneath a tree, with an Arabian lute in - his hands. His beard and hair are clipped; he looks - considerably younger._ - - PEER GYNT. - [_Plays and sings._] - - I double-locked my Paradise, - And took its key with me. - The north-wind bore me seaward ho! - While lovely women all forlorn - Wept on the ocean strand. - Still southward, southward clove my keel - The salt sea-currents through. - Where palms were swaying proud and fair, - A garland round the ocean-bight, - I set my ship afire. - - I climbed aboard the desert ship, - A ship on four stout legs. - It foamed beneath the lashing whip;—— - Oh, catch me; I’m a flitting bird;— - I’m twittering on a bough! - - Anitra, thou’rt the palm-tree’s must; - That know I now full well! - Ay, even the Angora goat-milk cheese - Is scarcely half such dainty fare, - Anitra, ah, as thou! - - [_He hangs the lute over his shoulder, and comes - forward._] - - Stillness! Is the fair one listening? - Has she heard my little song? - Peeps she from behind the curtain, - Veil and so forth cast aside?— - Hush! A sound as though a cork - From a bottle burst amain! - Now once more! And yet again! - Love-sighs can it be? or songs?— - No, it is distinctly snoring.— - Dulcet strain! Anitra sleepeth! - Nightingale, thy warbling stay! - Every sort of woe betide thee, - If with gurgling trill thou darest— - But, as says the text: Let be! - Nightingale, thou art a singer; - Ah, even such an one am I. - He, like me, ensnares with music - Tender, shrinking little hearts. - Balmy night is made for music; - Music is our common sphere; - In the act of singing, we are - We, Peer Gynt and nightingale. - And the maiden’s very sleeping - Is my passion’s crowning bliss;— - For the lips protruded o’er the - Beaker yet untasted quite—— - But she’s coming, I declare! - After all, it’s best she should. - - ANITRA. - [_From the tent._] - - Master, call’st thou in the night? - - PEER. - - Yes indeed, the Prophet calls. - I was wakened by the cat - With a furious hunting-hubbub—— - - ANITRA. - - Ah, not hunting-noises, Master; - It was something much, much worse. - - PEER. - - What, then, was’t? - - ANITRA. - - Oh, spare me! - - PEER. - - Speak. - - ANITRA. - - Oh, I blush to—— - - PEER. - [_Approaching._] - - Was it, mayhap, - That which filled me so completely - When I let you have my opal? - - ANITRA. - [_Horrified._] - - Liken thee, O earth’s great treasure, - To a horrible old cat! - - PEER. - - Child, from passion’s standpoint viewed, - May a tom-cat and a prophet - Come to very much the same. - - ANITRA. - - Master, jest like honey floweth - From thy lips. - - PEER. - - My little friend, - You, like other maidens, judge - Great men by their outsides only. - I am full of jest at bottom, - Most of all when we’re alone. - I am forced by my position - To assume a solemn mask. - Duties of the day constrain me; - All the reckonings and worry - That I have with one and all, - Make me oft a cross-grained prophet; - But it’s only from the tongue out.— - Fudge, avaunt! _En tête-à-tête_ - I’m Peer—well, the man I am. - Hei, away now with the prophet; - Me, myself, you have me here! - [_Seats himself under a tree, and draws her to him._ - Come, Anitra, we will rest us - Underneath the palm’s green fan-shade! - I’ll lie whispering, you’ll lie smiling; - Afterwards our rôles exchange we; - Then shall your lips, fresh and balmy, - To my smiling, passion whisper! - - ANITRA. - [_Lies down at his feet._] - - All thy words are sweet as singing, - Though I understand but little. - Master, tell me, can thy daughter - Catch a soul by listening? - - PEER. - - Soul, and spirit’s light and knowledge, - All in good time you shall have them. - When in east, on rosy streamers - Golden types print: Here is day,— - Then, my child, I’ll give you lessons; - You’ll be well brought up, no fear. - But, ’mid night’s delicious stillness, - It were stupid if I should, - With a threadbare wisdom’s remnants, - Play the part of pedagogue.— - And the soul, moreover, is not, - Looked at properly, the main thing. - It’s the heart that really matters. - - ANITRA. - - Speak, O Master! When thou speakest, - I see gleams, as though of opals! - - PEER. - - Wisdom in extremes is folly; - Coward blossoms into tyrant; - Truth, when carried to excess, - Ends in wisdom written backwards. - Ay, my daughter, I’m forsworn - As a dog if there are not - Folk with o’erfed souls on earth - Who shall scarce attain to clearness. - Once I met with such a fellow, - Of the flock the very flower; - And even he mistook his goal, - Losing sense in blatant sound.— - See the waste round this oasis. - Were I but to swing my turban, - I could force the ocean-flood - To fill up the whole concern. - But I were a blockhead, truly - Seas and lands to go creating. - Know you what it is to live? - - ANITRA. - - Teach me! - - PEER. - - It is to be wafted - Dry-shod down the stream of time, - Wholly, solely as oneself. - Only in full manhood can I - Be the man I am, dear child! - Aged eagle moults his plumage, - Aged fogey lags declining, - Aged dame has ne’er a tooth left, - Aged churl gets withered hands,— - One and all get withered souls. - Youth! Ah Youth! I mean to reign, - As a sultan, whole and fiery,— - Not on Gyntiana’s shores, - Under trellised vines and palm-leaves,— - But enthronëd[92] in the freshness - Of a woman’s virgin thoughts.— - See you now, my little maiden, - Why I’ve graciously bewitched you,— - Why I have your heart selected, - And established, so to speak, - _There_ my being’s Caliphate? - All your longings shall be mine. - I’m an _autocrat_ in passion! - You shall live for me alone. - I’ll be he who shall enthrall - You like gold and precious stones. - Should we part, then life is over,— - That is, _your_ life, _nota bene_! - Every inch and fibre of you, - Will-less, without yea or nay, - I must know filled full of me. - Midnight beauties of your tresses, - All that’s lovely to be named, - Shall, like Babylonian gardens, - Tempt your Sultan to his tryst. - After all, I don’t complain, then, - Of your empty forehead-vault. - With a soul, one’s oft absorbed in - Contemplation of oneself. - Listen, while we’re on the subject,— - If you like it, faith, you shall - Have a ring about your ankle:— - ’Twill be best for both of us. - _I_ will be your soul by proxy; - For the rest—why, _status quo_. - [_ANITRA snores._ - What! She sleeps! Then has it glided - Bootless past her, all I’ve said?— - No; it marks my influence o’er her - That she floats away in dreams - On my love-talk as it flows. - [_Rises, and lays trinkets in her lap._ - Here are jewels! Here are more! - Sleep, Anitra! Dream of Peer——. - Sleep! In sleeping, you the crown have - Placed upon your Emperor’s brow! - Victory on his Person’s basis - Has Peer Gynt this night achieved. - - - SCENE EIGHTH. - - - _A caravan route. The oasis is seen far off in the background._ - - _PEER GYNT comes galloping across the desert, on his white - horse, with ANITRA before him on his saddle-bow._ - - ANITRA. - - Let be, or I’ll bite you! - - PEER. - - You little rogue! - - ANITRA. - - What would you? - - PEER. - - What would I? Play hawk and dove. - Run away with you! Frolic and frisk a bit! - - ANITRA. - - For shame! An old prophet like you! - - PEER. - - Oh, stuff! - The prophet’s not old at all, you goose! - Do you think all this is a sign of age? - - ANITRA. - - Let me go! I want to go home! - - PEER. - - Coquette! - What, home! To papa-in-law! That would be fine! - We madcap birds that have flown from the cage - Must never come into his sight again. - Besides, my child, in the self-same place - It’s wisest never to stay too long; - For familiarity lessens respect;— - Most of all when one comes as a prophet or such. - One should show oneself glimpse-wise and pass like a dream. - Faith, ’twas time that the visit should come to an end. - They’re unstable of soul, are these sons of the desert;— - Both incense and prayers dwindled off towards the end. - - ANITRA. - - Yes, but are you a prophet? - - PEER. - - Your Emperor I am! - [_Tries to kiss her._ - Why just see now how coy the wee woodpecker is! - - ANITRA. - - Give me that ring that you have on your finger. - - PEER. - - Take, sweet Anitra, the whole of the trash! - - ANITRA. - - Thy words are as songs! Oh, how dulcet their sound! - - PEER. - - How blessëd to know oneself loved to this pitch! - I’ll dismount! Like your slave, I will lead your palfrey! - [_Hands her his riding-whip, and dismounts._ - There now, my rosebud, you exquisite flower! - Here I’ll go trudging my way through the sand, - Till a sunstroke o’ertakes me and finishes me. - I’m young, Anitra; bear that in mind! - You mustn’t be shocked at my escapades. - Frolics and high-jinks are youth’s sole criterion! - And so, if your intellect weren’t so dense, - You would see at a glance, oh my fair oleander,— - Your lover is frolicsome—_ergo_, he’s young! - - ANITRA. - - Yes, you are young. Have you any more rings? - - PEER. - - Am I not? There, grab! I can leap like a buck! - Were there vine-leaves around, I would garland my brow. - To be sure I am young! Hei, I’m going to dance! - [_Dances and sings._ - I am a blissful game-cock! - Peck me, my little pullet! - Hop-sa-sa! Let me trip it;— - I am a blissful game-cock! - - ANITRA. - - You are sweating, my prophet; I fear you will melt;— - Hand me that heavy bag hung at your belt. - - PEER. - - Tender solicitude! Bear the purse ever;— - Hearts that can love are content without gold! - [_Dances and sings again._ - Young Peer Gynt is the maddest wag;— - He knows not what foot he shall stand upon. - Pooh, says Peer;—pooh, never mind! - Young Peer Gynt is the maddest wag! - - ANITRA. - - What joy when the Prophet steps forth in the dance! - - PEER. - - Oh, bother the Prophet!—Suppose we change clothes! - Heisa! Strip off! - - ANITRA. - - Your caftan were too long, - Your girdle too wide, and your stockings too tight—— - - PEER. - - _Eh bien!_[93] - [_Kneels down._ - But vouchsafe me a vehement sorrow;— - To a heart full of love, it is sweet to suffer! - Listen; as soon as we’re home at my castle—— - - ANITRA. - - In your Paradise;—have we far to ride? - - PEER. - - Oh, a thousand miles or—— - - ANITRA. - - Too far! - - PEER. - - Oh, listen;— - You shall have the soul that I promised you once—— - - ANITRA. - - Oh, thank you; I’ll get on without the soul. - But you asked for a sorrow—— - - PEER. - [_Rising._] - - Ay, curse me, I did! - A keen one, but short,—to last two or three days! - - ANITRA. - - Anitra obeyeth the Prophet!—Farewell! - - [_Gives him a smart cut across the fingers, and dashes - off, at a tearing gallop, back across the desert._ - - PEER. - [_Stands for a long time thunderstruck._] - - Well now, may I be——! - - - SCENE NINTH. - - - _The same place, an hour later._ - - _PEER GYNT is stripping off his Turkish costume, soberly and - thoughtfully, bit by bit. Last of all, he takes his little - travelling-cap out of his coat pocket, puts it on, and - stands once more in European dress._ - - PEER. - [_Throwing the turban far away from him._] - - There lies the Turk, then, and here stand I!— - These heathenish doings are no sort of good. - It’s lucky ’twas only a matter of clothes, - And not, as the saying goes, bred in the bone.— - What tempted me into that galley at all? - It’s best, in the long run, to live as a Christian, - To put away peacock-like ostentation, - To base all one’s dealings on law and morality, - To be ever oneself, and to earn at the last a - Speech at one’s grave-side, and wreaths on one’s coffin. - [_Walks a few steps._ - The hussy;—she was on the very verge - Of turning my head clean topsy-turvy. - May I be a troll if I understand - What it was that dazed and bemused me so. - Well; it’s well that’s done: had the joke been carried - But one step on, I’d have looked absurd.— - I have erred;——but at least it’s a consolation - That my error was due to the false situation. - It wasn’t my personal self that fell. - ’Twas in fact this prophetical way of life, - So utterly lacking the salt of activity, - That took its revenge in these qualms of bad taste. - It’s a sorry business this prophetising! - One’s office compels one to walk in a mist; - In playing the prophet, you throw up the game[94] - The moment you act like a rational being.[95] - In so far I’ve done what the occasion demanded, - In the mere fact of paying my court to that goose. - But, nevertheless—— - [_Bursts out laughing._ - H’m, to think of it now! - To try to make time stop by jigging and dancing, - And to cope with the current by capering and prancing! - To thrum on the lute-strings, to fondle and sigh, - And end, like a rooster,—by getting well plucked! - Such conduct is truly prophetic frenzy.— - Yes, plucked!—Phew! I’m plucked clean enough indeed. - Well, well, I’ve a trifle still left in reserve; - I’ve a little in America, a little in my pocket; - So I won’t be quite driven to beg my bread.— - And at bottom this middle condition is best. - I’m no longer a slave to my coachman and horses; - I haven’t to fret about postchaise or baggage; - I am master, in short, of the situation.— - What path should I choose? Many paths lie before me; - And a wise man is known from a fool by his choice. - My business life is a finished chapter; - My love-sports, too, are a cast-off garment. - I feel no desire to live back like a crab. - “Forward or back, and it’s just as far; - Out or in, and it’s just as strait,”— - So I seem to have read in some luminous[96] work.— - I’ll try something new, then; ennoble my course; - Find a goal worth the labour and money it costs. - Shall I write my life without dissimulation,— - A book for guidance and imitation? - Or, stay——! I have plenty of time at command;— - What if, as a travelling scientist, - I should study past ages and time’s voracity? - Ay, sure enough, _that_ is the thing for me! - Legends I read e’en in childhood’s days, - And since then I’ve kept up that branch of learning.— - I will follow the path of the human race! - Like a feather I’ll float on the stream of history - Make it all live again, as in a dream,— - See the heroes battling for truth and right, - As an onlooker only, in safety ensconced,— - See thinkers perish and martyrs bleed, - See empires founded and vanish away,— - See world-epochs grow from their trifling seeds; - In short, I will skim off the cream of history.— - I must try to get hold of a volume of Becker, - And travel as far as I can by chronology.— - It’s true—my grounding’s by no means thorough, - And history’s wheels within wheels are deceptive;— - But pooh; the wilder the starting-point, - The result will oft be the more original.— - How exalting it is, now, to choose a goal, - And drive straight for it, like flint and steel! - [_With quiet emotion._ - To break off all round one, on every side, - The bonds that bind one to home and friends,— - To blow into atoms one’s hoarded wealth,— - To bid one’s love and its joys good night,— - All simply to find the arcana of truth,— - [_Wiping a tear from his eye._ - That is the test of the true man of science!— - I feel myself happy beyond all measure. - Now I have fathomed my destiny’s riddle. - Now ’tis but persevering through thick and thin! - It’s excusable, sure, if I hold up my head, - And feel my worth, as the man, Peer Gynt, - Also called Human-life’s Emperor.— - I will own the sum-total of bygone days; - I’ll nevermore tread in the paths of the living. - The present is not worth so much as a shoe-sole; - All faithless and marrowless the doings of men; - Their soul has no wings and their deeds no - weight;—— - [_Shrugs his shoulders._ - And women,—ah, they are a worthless crew! - [_Goes off._ - - - SCENE TENTH. - - _A summer day. Far up in the North. A hut in the forest. The - door, with a large wooden bar, stands open. Reindeer-horns - over it. A flock of goats by the wall of the hut._ - - _A MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN, fair-haired and comely, sits spinning - outside in the sunshine._ - - THE WOMAN. - [_Glances down the path and sings._] - - Maybe both the winter and spring will pass by, - And the next summer too, and the whole of the year;— - But thou wilt come one day, that know I full well; - And I will await thee, as I promised of old.[97] - [_Calls the goats, spins, and sings again._ - God strengthen thee, whereso thou goest in the world! - God gladden thee, if at his footstool thou stand! - Here will I await thee till thou comest again; - And if thou wait up yonder, then there we’ll meet, my friend! - - - SCENE ELEVENTH. - - - _In Egypt. Daybreak. MEMNON’S STATUE amid the sands._ - - _PEER GYNT enters on foot, and looks around him for a while._ - - PEER GYNT. - - Here I might fittingly start on my wanderings.— - So now, for a change, I’ve become an Egyptian; - But Egyptian on the basis of the Gyntish I. - To Assyria next I will bend my steps. - To begin right back at the world’s creation - Would lead to nought but bewilderment. - I will go round about[98] all the Bible history; - Its secular traces I’ll always be coming on; - And to look, as the saying goes, into its seams, - Lies entirely outside both my plan and my powers. - [_Sits upon a stone._ - Now I will rest me, and patiently wait - Till the statue has sung its habitual dawn-song. - When breakfast is over, I’ll climb up the pyramid; - If I’ve time, I’ll look through its interior afterwards. - Then I’ll go round the head of the Red Sea by land; - Perhaps I may hit on King Potiphar’s grave.— - Next I’ll turn Asiatic. In Babylon I’ll seek for - The far-renowned harlots and hanging gardens,— - That’s to say, the chief traces of civilisation. - Then at one bound to the ramparts of Troy. - From Troy there’s a fareway by sea direct - Across to the glorious ancient Athens;— - There on the spot will I, stone by stone, - Survey the Pass that Leonidas guarded. - I will get up the works of the better philosophers, - Find the prison where Socrates suffered, a martyr——; - Oh no, by-the-bye—there’s a war there at present——! - Well, my studies in Hellas must e’en be postponed. - [_Looks at his watch._ - It’s really too bad, such an age as it takes - For the sun to rise. I am pressed for time. - Well then, from Troy—it was there I left off—— - [_Rises and listens._ - What is that strange sort of murmur that’s rushing——? - [_Sunrise._ - - MEMNON’S STATUE. - [_Sings._] - - From the demigod’s ashes there soar, youth-renewing, - Birds ever singing. - Zeus the Omniscient - Shaped them contending. - Owls of wisdom, - My birds, where do they slumber? - Thou must die if thou rede not - The song’s enigma! - - PEER. - - How strange now,—I really fancied there came - From the statue a sound. Music, this, of the Past. - I heard the stone-accents now rising, now sinking.— - I will register it, for the learned to ponder. - [_Notes in his pocket-book_ - “The statue did sing. I heard the sound plainly, - But didn’t quite follow the text of the song. - The whole thing, of course, was hallucination.— - Nothing else of importance observed to-day.” - [_Proceeds on his way._ - - - SCENE TWELFTH. - - - _Near the village of Gizeh. The great SPHINX carved out of the - rock. In the distance the spires and minarets of Cairo._ - - _PEER GYNT enters; he examines the SPHINX attentively, now - through his eyeglass, now through his hollowed hand._ - - PEER GYNT. - - Now, where in the world have I met before - Something half forgotten that’s like this hobgoblin? - For met it I have, in the north or the south. - Was it a person? And, if so, who? - That Memnon, it afterwards crossed my mind, - Was like the Old Man of the Dovrë, so called, - Just as he sat there, stiff and stark, - Planted on end on the stumps of pillars.— - But this most curious mongrel here, - This changeling, a lion and woman in one,— - Does he come to me, too, from a fairy-tale, - Or from a remembrance of something real? - From a fairy-tale? Ho, I remember the fellow! - Why, of course it’s the Boyg, that I smote on the skull,— - That is, I dreamt it,—I lay in fever.— - [_Going closer._ - The self-same eyes, and the self-same lips;— - Not quite so lumpish; a little more cunning; - But the same, for the rest, in all essentials.— - Ay, so that’s it, Boyg; so you’re like a lion - When one sees you from behind and meets you in the day-time! - Are you still good at riddling? Come, let us try. - Now we shall see if you answer as last time! - [_Calls out towards the SPHINX._ - Hei, Boyg, who are you? - - A VOICE. - [_Behind the SPHINX._] - - Ach, Sphinx, wer bist du? - - PEER. - - What! Echo answers in German! How strange! - - THE VOICE. - - Wer bist du? - - PEER. - - It speaks it quite fluently too! - That observation is new, and my own. - [_Notes in his book._ - “Echo in German. Dialect, Berlin.” - - [_BEGRIFFENFELDT comes out from behind the SPHINX._ - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - A man! - - PEER. - - Oh, then it was _he_ that was chattering. - [_Notes again._ - “Arrived in the sequel at other results.” - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - [_With all sorts of restless antics._] - - Excuse me, mein Herr[99]——! Eine Lebensfrage——![99] - What brings you to this place precisely to-day? - - PEER. - - A visit. I’m greeting a friend of my youth. - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - What? The Sphinx——? - - PEER. - [_Nods._] - - Yes, I knew him in days gone by. - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Famos![100]—And that after such a night! - My temples are hammering as though they would burst! - You know him, man! Answer! Say on! Can you tell - What he is? - - PEER. - - What he is? Yes, that’s easy enough. - He’s _himself_. - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - [_With a bound._] - - Ha, the riddle of life lightened forth - In a flash to my vision!—It’s certain he is - Himself? - - PEER. - - Yes, he says so, at any rate. - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Himself! Revolution! thine hour is at hand! - [_Takes off his hat._ - Your name, pray, mein Herr?[100] - - PEER. - - I was christened Peer Gynt. - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - [_In rapt admiration._] - - Peer Gynt! Allegoric! I might have foreseen it.— - Peer Gynt? That must clearly imply: The Unknown,— - The Comer whose coming was augured to me—— - - PEER. - - What, really? And now you are here to meet—— - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Peer Gynt! Profound! Enigmatic! Incisive! - Each word, as it were, an abysmal lesson! - What are you? - - PEER. - [_Modestly._] - - I’ve always endeavoured to be - Myself. For the rest, here’s my passport, you see. - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Again that mysterious word at the bottom. - [_Seizes him by the wrist._ - To Cairo! The Interpreters’ Kaiser is found! - - PEER. - - Kaiser? - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Come on! - - PEER. - - Am I really known——? - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - [_Dragging him away._] - - The Interpreters’ Kaiser—on the basis of Self! - - - SCENE THIRTEENTH. - - - _In Cairo. A large courtyard, surrounded by high walls and - buildings. Barred windows; iron cages._ - - _THREE KEEPERS in the courtyard. A FOURTH comes in._ - - THE NEWCOMER. - - Schafmann, say, where’s the director gone? - - A KEEPER. - - He drove out this morning some time before dawn. - - THE FIRST. - - I think something must have occurred to annoy him; - For last night—— - - ANOTHER. - - Hush, be quiet; he’s there at the door! - - [_BEGRIFFENFELDT leads PEER GYNT in, locks the gate, and - puts the key in his pocket._ - - PEER. - [_To himself._] - - Indeed an exceedingly gifted man; - Almost all that he says is beyond comprehension. - [_Looks around._ - So this is the Club of the Savants, eh? - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Here you will find them, every man jack of them;— - The group of Interpreters threescore and ten;[101] - Of late it has grown by a hundred and sixty—— - [_Shouts to the KEEPERS._ - Mikkel, Schlingelberg, Schafmann, Fuchs,— - Into the cages with you at once! - - THE KEEPERS. - - We! - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Who else, pray? Get in, get in! - When the world twirls around, we must twirl with it too. - [_Forces them into a cage._ - He’s arrived this morning, the mighty Peer;— - The rest you can guess,—I need say no more. - - [_Locks the cage door, and throws the key into a well._ - - PEER. - - But, my dear Herr Doctor and Director, pray——? - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Neither one nor the other! I was before—— - Herr Peer, are you secret? I must ease my heart—— - - PEER. - [_With increasing uneasiness._] - - What is it? - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Promise you will not tremble. - - PEER. - - I will do my best, but—— - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - [_Draws him into a corner, and whispers._] - - The Absolute Reason - Departed this life at eleven last night. - - PEER. - - God help me——! - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Why, yes, it’s extremely deplorable. - And as I’m placed, you see, it is doubly unpleasant; - For this institution has passed up to now - For what’s called a madhouse. - - PEER. - - A madhouse, ha! - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Not _now_, understand! - - PEER. - [_Softly, pale with fear._] - - Now I see what the place is! - And the man is mad;—and there’s none that knows it! - [_Tries to steal away._ - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - [_Following him._] - - However, I hope you don’t misunderstand me? - When I said he was dead, I was talking stuff. - He’s beside himself. Started clean out of his skin,— - Just like my compatriot Münchausen’s fox. - - PEER. - - Excuse me a moment—— - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - [_Holding him back._] - - I meant like an eel;— - It was not like a fox. A needle through his eye;— - And he writhed on the wall—— - - PEER. - - Where can rescue be found? - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - A snick round his neck, and whip! out of his skin! - - PEER. - - He’s raving! He’s utterly out of his wits! - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Now it’s patent, and can’t be dissimulated, - That this from-himself-going must have for result - A complete revolution by sea and land. - The persons one hitherto reckoned as mad, - You see, became normal last night at eleven, - Accordant with Reason in its newest phase. - And more, if the matter be rightly regarded, - It’s patent that, at the aforementioned hour, - The sane folks, so called, began forthwith to rave. - - PEER. - - You mentioned the hour, sir; my time is but scant—— - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Your time, did you say? There you jog my remembrance! - [_Opens a door and calls out._ - Come forth all! The time that shall be is proclaimed! - Reason is dead and gone; long live Peer Gynt! - - PEER. - - Now, my dear good fellow——! - - [_The LUNATICS come one by one, and at intervals, into - the courtyard._ - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Good morning! Come forth, - And hail the dawn of emancipation! - Your Kaiser has come to you! - - PEER. - - Kaiser? - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Of course! - - PEER. - - But the honour’s so great, so entirely excessive—— - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Oh, do not let any false modesty sway you - At an hour such as this. - - PEER. - - But at least give me time—— - No, indeed, I’m not fit; I’m completely dumbfounded! - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - A man who has fathomed the Sphinx’s meaning! - A man who’s himself! - - PEER. - - Ay, but that’s just the rub. - It’s true that in everything I am myself; - But here the point is, if I follow your meaning, - To be, so to phrase it, outside oneself. - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Outside? No, there you are strangely mistaken! - It’s here, sir, that one is oneself with a vengeance; - Oneself, and nothing whatever besides. - We go, full sail, as our very selves. - Each one shuts himself up in the barrel of self, - In the self-fermentation he dives to the bottom,— - With the self-bung he seals it hermetically, - And seasons the staves in the well of self. - No one has tears for the other’s woes; - No one has mind for the other’s ideas. - We’re our very selves, both in thought and tone, - Ourselves to the spring-board’s uttermost verge,— - And so, if a Kaiser’s to fill the Throne, - It is clear that you are the very man. - - PEER. - - O would that the devil——! - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Come, don’t be cast down; - Almost all things in nature are new at the first. - “Oneself”;—come, here you shall see an example; - I’ll choose you at random the first man that comes—— - [_To a gloomy figure._ - Good-day, Huhu? Well, my boy, wandering round - For ever with misery’s impress upon you? - - HUHU.[102] - - Can I help it, when the people, - Race[103] by race, dies untranslated.[104] - [_To PEER GYNT._ - You’re a stranger; will you listen? - - PEER. - [_Bowing._] - - Oh, by all means! - - HUHU. - - Lend your ear then.— - Eastward far, like brow-borne garlands, - Lie the Malabarish seaboards. - Hollanders and Portugueses - Compass all the land with culture. - There, moreover, swarms are dwelling - Of the pure-bred Malabaris. - These have muddled up the language, - They now lord it in the country.— - But in long-departed ages - There the orang-outang was the ruler. - He, the forest’s lord and master, - Freely fought and snarled in freedom. - As the hand of nature shaped him, - Just so grinned he, just so gaped he. - He could shriek unreprehended; - He was ruler in his kingdom.— - Ah, but then the foreign yoke came, - Marred the forest-tongue primeval. - Twice two hundred years of darkness[105] - Brooded o’er the race of monkeys; - And, you know, nights so protracted - Bring a people to a standstill.— - Mute are now the wood-notes primal; - Grunts and growls are heard no longer;— - If we’d utter our ideas, - It must be by means of language. - What constraint on all and sundry! - Hollanders and Portugueses, - Half-caste race and Malabaris, - All alike must suffer by it.— - I have tried to fight the battle - Of our real, primal wood-speech,— - Tried to bring to life its carcass,— - Proved the people’s right of shrieking,— - Shrieked myself, and shown the need of - Shrieks in poems for the people.— - Scantly, though, my work is valued.— - Now I think you grasp my sorrow. - Thanks for lending me a hearing;— - Have you counsel, let me hear it! - - PEER. - [_Softly._] - - It is written: Best be howling - With the wolves that are about you. - [_Aloud._ - Friend, if I remember rightly, - There are bushes in Morocco, - Where orang-outangs in plenty - Live with neither bard nor spokesman;— - Their speech sounded Malabarish;— - It was classical and pleasing. - Why don’t you, like other worthies, - Emigrate to serve your country? - - HUHU. - - Thanks for lending me a hearing;— - I will do as you advise me. - [_With a large gesture._ - East! thou hast disowned thy singer! - West! thou hast orang-outangs still! - [_Goes._ - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Well, was he himself? I should rather think so. - He’s filled with his own affairs, simply and solely. - He’s himself in all that comes out of him,— - Himself, just because he’s beside himself. - Come here! Now I’ll show you another one - Who’s no less, since last evening, accordant with Reason. - [_To a FELLAH, with a mummy on his back._ - King Apis, how goes it, my mighty lord? - - THE FELLAH. - [_Wildly, to PEER GYNT._] - - Am I King Apis? - - PEER. - [_Getting behind the Doctor._] - - I’m sorry to say - I’m not quite at home in the situation; - But I certainly gather, to judge by your tone—— - - THE FELLAH. - - Now you too are lying. - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Your Highness should state - How the whole matter stands. - - THE FELLAH. - - Yes, I’ll tell him my tale. - [_Turns to PEER GYNT._ - Do you see whom I bear on my shoulders? - His name was King Apis of old. - Now he goes by the title of mummy, - And withal he’s completely dead. - All the pyramids yonder he builded, - And hewed out the mighty Sphinx, - And fought, as the Doctor puts it, - With the Turks, both to rechts and links. - And therefore the whole of Egypt - Exalted him as a god, - And set up his image in temples, - In the outward shape of a bull.— - But _I_ am this very King Apis, - I see that as clear as day; - And if you don’t understand it, - You shall understand it soon. - King Apis, you see, was out hunting, - And got off his horse awhile, - And withdrew himself unattended - To a part of my ancestor’s land. - But the field that King Apis manured - Has nourished _me_ with its corn; - And if further proofs are demanded, - Know, I have invisible horns. - Now, isn’t it most accursëd - That no one will own my might! - By birth I am Apis of Egypt, - But a fellah in other men’s sight. - Can you tell me what course to follow?— - Then counsel me honestly.— - The problem is how to make me - Resemble King Apis the Great. - - PEER. - - Build pyramids then, your highness, - And carve out a greater Sphinx, - And fight, as the Doctor puts it, - With the Turks, both to rechts and links. - - THE FELLAH. - - Ay, that is all mighty fine talking! - A fellah! A hungry louse! - I, who scarcely can keep my hovel - Clear even of rats and mice. - Quick, man,—think of something better, - That’ll make me both great and safe, - And further, exactly like to - King Apis that’s on my back! - - PEER. - - What if your highness hanged you, - And then, in the lap of earth, - ’Twixt the coffin’s natural frontiers, - Kept still and completely dead. - - THE FELLAH. - - I’ll do it! My life for a halter! - To the gallows with hide and hair!— - At first there will be some difference, - But that time will smooth away. - [_Goes off and prepares to hang himself._ - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - There’s a personality for you, Herr Peer,— - A man of method—— - - PEER. - - Yes, yes; I see——; - But he’ll really hang himself! God grant us grace! - I’ll be ill;—I can scarcely command my thoughts! - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - A state of transition; it won’t last long. - - PEER. - - Transition? To what? With your leave—I must go—— - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - [_Holding him_.] - - Are you crazy? - - PEER. - - Not yet——. Crazy? Heaven forbid! - - [_A commotion. The Minister HUSSEIN[106] forces his way - through the crowd._ - - HUSSEIN. - - They tell me a Kaiser has come to-day. - [_To PEER GYNT._ - It is you? - - PEER. - [_In desperation._] - - Yes, that is a settled thing! - - HUSSEIN. - - Good.—Then no doubt there are notes to be answered? - - PEER. - [_Tearing his hair._] - - Come on! Right you are, sir;—the madder the better! - - HUSSEIN. - - Will you do me the honour of taking a dip? - [_Bowing deeply._ - I am a pen. - - PEER. - [_Bowing still deeper._] - - Why then I am quite clearly - A rubbishy piece of imperial parchment. - - HUSSEIN. - - My story, my lord, is concisely this: - They take me for a pounce-box,[107] and I am a pen. - - PEER. - - My story, Sir Pen, is, to put it briefly: - I’m a blank sheet of paper that no one will write on. - - HUSSEIN. - - No man understands in the least what I’m good for; - They all want to use me for scattering sand with! - - PEER. - - I was in a woman’s keeping a silver-clasped book;— - It’s one and the same misprint to be either mad or sane! - - HUSSEIN. - - Just fancy, what an exhausting life. - To be a pen and never taste the edge of a knife! - - PEER. - [_With a high leap._] - - Just fancy, for a reindeer to leap from on high— - To fall and fall—and never feel the ground beneath your hoofs! - - HUSSEIN. - - A knife! I am blunt;—quick, mend me and slit me! - The world will go to ruin if they don’t mend my point for me! - - PEER. - - A pity for the world which, like other self-made things, - Was reckoned by the Lord to be so excellently good. - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - - Here’s a knife! - - HUSSEIN. - [_Seizing it._] - - Ah, how I shall lick up the ink now! - Oh, what rapture to cut oneself! - [_Cuts his throat._ - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - [_Stepping aside._] - - Pray do not sputter. - - PEER. - [_In increasing terror._] - - Hold him! - - HUSSEIN. - - Ay, hold me! That is the word! - Hold! Hold the pen! On the desk with the paper——! - [_Falls._ - I’m outworn. The postscript—remember it, pray: - He lived and he died as a fate-guided pen.[108] - - PEER. - [_Dizzily._] - - What shall I——! What am I? Thou mighty——hold fast! - I am all that thou wilt,—I’m a Turk, I’m a sinner—— - A hill-troll——; but help;—there was something that burst——! - [_Shrieks._ - I cannot just hit on thy name at the moment;— - Oh, come to my aid, thou—all madmen’s protector! - [_Sinks down insensible._ - - BEGRIFFENFELDT. - [_With a wreath of straw in his hand, gives a bound - and sits astride of him._] - - Ha! See him in the mire enthronëd;— - Beside himself——To crown him now! - - [_Presses the wreath on PEER GYNT’S head, and shouts_: - - Long life, long life to Self-hood’s Kaiser! - - SCHAFMANN. - [_In the cage._] - - Es lebe hoch der grosse Peer! - - ------ - - Footnotes: - ------ - -Footnote 65: - - In the original, “Master Cotton.” - -Footnote 66: - - A Swede. The name means “trumpet-blast.” - -Footnote 67: - - In the original (early editions), “Werry well.” - -Footnote 68: - - So in original. - -Footnote 69: - - This may not be a very lucid or even very precise rendering of - Verdensborgerdomsforpagtning; but this line, and indeed the - whole speech, is pure burlesque; and the exact sense of - nonsense is naturally elusive. - -Footnote 70: - - So in original. - -Footnote 71: - - Literally, “pack-camel.” - -Footnote 72: - - So in original. - -Footnote 73: - - So in original. - -Footnote 74: - - So in original. - -Footnote 75: - - So in original. - -Footnote 76: - - In the original “kejser.” We have elsewhere used the word - “Kaiser,” but in this scene, and in Scenes 7 and 8 of this - act, the ordinary English form seemed preferable. - -Footnote 77: - - So in original. - -Footnote 78: - - An allusion to the spurs with which Charles XII. is said to - have torn the caftan of the Turkish Vizier who announced to - him that the Sultan had concluded a truce with Russia. The - boots and spurs, it would appear, have been preserved, but - with the buckles missing. - -Footnote 79: - - So in original. - -Footnote 80: - - So in original. - -Footnote 81: - - So in original. - -Footnote 82: - - Mr. Cotton seems to have confounded Olympus with Parnassus. - -Footnote 83: - - So in original. - -Footnote 84: - - An allusion to the attitude of Sweden during the Danish War of - 1863-64, with special reference to the diplomatic notes of the - Minister for Foreign Affairs, Grev Manderström. He is also - aimed at in the character of Hussein in the last scene of this - act. See Introduction. - -Footnote 85: - - So in original. - -Footnote 86: - - This is not to be taken as a burlesque instance of the poet’s - supposed preoccupation with questions of heredity, but simply - as an allusion to the fact that, in the East, thieving and - receiving are regular and hereditary professions. - -Footnote 87: - - This proposal was seriously mooted about ten years after the - appearance of _Peer Gynt_. - -Footnote 88: - - Or “ego.” - -Footnote 89: - - In original, “Pundsterling og shilling.” - -Footnote 90: - - In the original, “De har snydt——hm; jeg mener syndet, mit - barn!” - -Footnote 91: - - In the previous edition we restored the exact wording of - Goethe’s line, “zieht uns hinan.” We ought to have understood - that the point of the speech lay in the misquotation. - -Footnote 92: - - Literally, “on the basis of.” - -Footnote 93: - - So in original. - -Footnote 94: - - Literally, “you’re looed” or “euchred.” - -Footnote 95: - - Literally, “behave as though sober and wakeful.” - -Footnote 96: - - Literally, “_spirituel_.” - -Footnote 97: - - _Sidst_—literally, “when last we met.” - -Footnote 98: - - “Gå udenom,” the phrase used by the Boyg, Act ii. sc. 7. - -Footnote 99: - - So in original. - -Footnote 100: - - So in original. - -Footnote 101: - - This is understood to refer to the authors of the Greek - version of the Old Testament, known as the Septuagint. We are - unable to account for the hundred and sixty recruits to their - company. - -Footnote 102: - - See Introduction. - -Footnote 103: - - Literally, “generation.” - -Footnote 104: - - Literally, “uninterpreted.” - -Footnote 105: - - An allusion to the long period of stagnation in the history of - Norway under the Danish rule—say, from 1400 to 1800. - -Footnote 106: - - See note, p. 140. - -Footnote 107: - - The pounce-box (for strewing “pounce” or sand on undried ink) - had not yet been quite superseded by blotting-paper. - -Footnote 108: - - “En påholden pen.” “Underskrive med påholden pen”—to sign by - touching a pen which is guided by another. - ------ - - - - - ACT FIFTH. - - - SCENE FIRST. - - _On board a ship on the North Sea, off the Norwegian coast. - Sunset. Stormy weather._ - - _PEER GYNT, a vigorous old man, with grizzled hair and beard, - is standing aft on the poop. He is dressed half - sailor-fashion, with a pea-jacket and long boots. His - clothing is rather the worse for wear; he himself is - weather-beaten, and has a somewhat harder expression. - The CAPTAIN is standing beside the steersman at the - wheel. The crew are forward._ - - PEER GYNT. - [_Leans with his arms on the bulwark, and gazes - towards the land._] - - Look at Hallingskarv[109] in his winter furs;— - He’s ruffling it, old one, in the evening glow. - The Jokel,[109] his brother, stands behind him askew; - He’s got his green ice-mantle still on his back. - The Folgefånn,[109] now, she is mighty fine,— - Lying there like a maiden in spotless white. - Don’t you be madcaps, old boys that you are! - Stand where you stand; you’re but granite knobs. - - THE CAPTAIN. - [_Shouts forward._] - - Two hands to the wheel, and the lantern aloft! - - PEER. - - It’s blowing up stiff—— - - THE CAPTAIN. - - ——for a gale to-night. - - PEER. - - Can one see the Rondë Hills from the sea? - - THE CAPTAIN. - - No, how should you? They lie at the back of the snowfields. - - PEER. - - Or Blåhö?[110] - - THE CAPTAIN. - - No; but from up in the rigging, - You’ve a glimpse, in clear weather, of Galdhöpiggen.[110] - - PEER. - - Where does Hårteig[110] lie? - - THE CAPTAIN. - [_Pointing._] - - About over there. - - PEER. - - I thought so. - - THE CAPTAIN. - - You know where you are, it appears. - - PEER. - - When I left the country, I sailed by here; - And the dregs, says the proverb, hang in to the last. - [_Spits, and gazes at the coast._ - In there, where the screes and the clefts lie blue,— - Where the valleys, like trenches, gloom narrow and black,— - And underneath, skirting the open fiords,— - It’s in places like these human beings abide. - [_Looks at the Captain._ - They build far apart in this country. - - THE CAPTAIN. - - Ay; - Few are the dwellings and far between. - - PEER. - - Shall we get in by day-break? - - THE CAPTAIN. - - Thereabouts; - If we don’t have too dirty a night altogether. - - PEER. - - It grows thick in the west. - - THE CAPTAIN. - - It does so. - - PEER. - - Stop a bit! - You might put me in mind when we make up accounts— - I’m inclined, as the phrase goes, to do a good turn - To the crew—— - - THE CAPTAIN. - - I thank you. - - PEER. - - It won’t be much - I have dug for gold, and lost what I found;— - We are quite at loggerheads, Fate and I. - You know what I’ve got in safe keeping on board— - That’s all I have left;—the rest’s gone to the devil. - - THE CAPTAIN. - - It’s more than enough, though, to make you of weight - Among people at home here. - - PEER. - - I’ve no relations. - There’s no one awaiting the rich old curmudgeon.— - Well; that saves you, at least, any scenes on the pier! - - THE CAPTAIN. - - Here comes the storm. - - PEER. - - Well, remember then— - If any of your crew are in real need, - I won’t look too closely after the money—— - - THE CAPTAIN. - - That’s kind. They are most of them ill enough off; - They have all got their wives and their children at home. - With their wages alone they can scarce make ends meet; - But if they come home with some cash to the good, - It will be a return not forgot in a hurry. - - PEER. - - What do you say? Have they wives and children? - Are they married? - - THE CAPTAIN. - - Married? Ay, every man of them. - But the one that is worst off of all is the cook; - Black famine is ever at home in his house. - - PEER. - - Married? They’ve folks that await them at home? - Folks to be glad when they come? Eh? - - THE CAPTAIN. - - Of course, - In poor people’s fashion. - - PEER. - - And come they one evening, - What then? - - THE CAPTAIN. - - Why, I daresay the goodwife will fetch - Something good for a treat—— - - PEER. - - And a light in the sconce? - - THE CAPTAIN. - - Ay, ay, may be two; and a dram to their supper. - - PEER. - - And there they sit snug! There’s a fire on the hearth! - They’ve their children about them! The room’s full of chatter; - Not one hears another right out to an end, - For the joy that is on them——! - - THE CAPTAIN. - - It’s likely enough. - So it’s really kind, as you promised just now, - To help eke things out. - - PEER. - [_Thumping the bulwark._] - - I’ll be damned if I do. - Do you think I am mad? Would you have me fork out - For the sake of a parcel of other folks’ brats? - I’ve slaved much too sorely in earning my cash - There’s nobody waiting for old Peer Gynt. - - THE CAPTAIN. - - Well well; as you please then; your money’s your own. - - PEER. - - Right! Mine it is, and no one else’s. - We’ll reckon as soon as your anchor is down! - Take my fare, in the cabin, from Panama here. - Then brandy all round to the crew. Nothing more. - If I give a doit more, slap my jaw for me, Captain. - - THE CAPTAIN. - - I owe you a quittance, and not a thrashing;— - But excuse me, the wind’s blowing up to a gale. - - [_He goes forward. It has fallen dark; lights are lit in - the cabin. The sea increases. Fog and thick clouds._ - - PEER. - - To have a whole bevy of youngsters at home;— - Still to dwell in their minds as a coming delight;— - To have others’ thoughts follow you still on your path!— - There’s never a soul gives a thought to me.— - Lights in the sconces! I’ll put out those lights. - I will hit upon something!—I’ll make them all drunk;— - Not one of the devils shall go sober ashore. - They shall all come home drunk to their children and wives! - They shall curse; bang the table till it rings again,— - They shall scare those that wait for them out of their wits! - The goodwife shall scream and rush forth from the house,— - Clutch her children along! All their joy gone to ruin! - - [_The ship gives a heavy lurch; he staggers and keeps - his balance with difficulty._ - - Why, that was a buffet and no mistake. - The sea’s hard at labour, as though it were paid for it;— - It’s still itself here on the coasts of the north;— - A cross-sea, as wry and wrong-headed as ever—— - [_Listens._ - Why, what can those screams be? - - THE LOOK-OUT. - [_Forward._] - - A wreck a-lee! - - THE CAPTAIN. - [_On the main deck, shouts._] - - Starboard your helm! Bring her up to the wind! - - THE MATE. - - Are there men on the wreck? - - THE LOOK-OUT. - - I can just see three! - - PEER. - - Quick: lower the stern boat—— - - THE CAPTAIN. - - She’d fill ere she floated. - [_Goes forward._ - - PEER. - - Who can think of that now? - [_To some of the crew._ - If you’re men, to the rescue! - What the devil, if you should get a bit of a ducking. - - THE BOATSWAIN. - - It’s out of the question in such a sea. - - PEER. - - They are screaming again! There’s a lull in the wind.— - Cook, will you risk it? Quick! I will pay—— - - THE COOK. - - No, not if you offered me twenty pounds-sterling[111]—— - - PEER. - - You hounds! You chicken-hearts! Can you forget - These are men that have goodwives and children at home? - There they’re sitting and waiting—— - - THE BOATSWAIN. - - Well, patience is wholesome. - - THE CAPTAIN. - - Bear away from that sea! - - THE MATE. - - There the wreck capsized! - - PEER. - - All is silent of a sudden——! - - THE BOATSWAIN. - - Were they married, as you think, - There are three new-baked widows even now in the world. - - [_The storm increases. PEER GYNT moves away aft._ - - PEER. - - There is no faith left among men any more,— - No Christianity,—well may they say it and write it;— - Their good deeds are few and their prayers are still fewer, - And they pay no respect to the Powers above them.— - In a storm like to-night’s, he’s a terror, the Lord is. - These beasts should be careful, and think, what’s the truth, - That it’s dangerous playing with elephants;— - And yet they must openly brave his displeasure! - _I_ am no whit to blame; for the sacrifice - I can prove I stood ready, my money in hand. - But how does it profit me?—What says the proverb? - A conscience at ease is a pillow of down. - Oh ay, that is all very well on dry land, - But I’m blest if it matters a snuff on board ship, - When a decent man’s out on the seas with such riff-raff. - At sea one can never be one’s self; - One must go with the others from deck to keel; - If for boatswain and cook the hour of vengeance should strike, - I shall no doubt be swept to the deuce with the rest;— - One’s personal welfare is clean set aside;— - One counts but as a sausage in slaughtering-time.— - My mistake is this: I have been too meek; - And I’ve had no thanks for it after all. - Were I younger, I think I would shift the saddle, - And try how it answered to lord it awhile. - There is time enough yet! They shall know in the parish - That Peer has come sailing aloft o’er the seas! - I’ll get back the farmstead by fair means or foul;— - I will build it anew; it shall shine like a palace. - But none shall be suffered to enter the hall! - They shall stand at the gateway, all twirling their caps;— - They shall beg and beseech—_that_ they freely may do; - But none gets so much as a farthing of mine. - If _I’ve_ had to howl ’neath the lashes of fate, - Trust me to find folks I can lash in my turn—— - - THE STRANGE PASSENGER. - [_Stands in the darkness at PEER GYNT’S side, and - salutes him in friendly fashion._] - - Good evening! - - PEER. - - Good evening! What——? Who are you? - - THE PASSENGER. - - Your fellow-passenger, at your service. - - PEER. - - Indeed? I thought I was the only one. - - THE PASSENGER. - - A mistaken impression, which now is set right. - - PEER. - - But it’s singular that, for the first time to-night, - I should see you—— - - THE PASSENGER. - - I never come out in the day-time. - - PEER. - - Perhaps you are ill? You’re as white as a sheet—— - - THE PASSENGER. - - No, thank you—my health is uncommonly good. - - PEER. - - What a raging storm! - - THE PASSENGER. - - Ay, a blessëd one, man! - - PEER. - - A blessëd one? - - THE PASSENGER. - - Sea’s running high as houses - Ah, one can feel one’s mouth watering! - Just think of the wrecks that to-night will be shattered;— - And think, too, what corpses will drive ashore! - - PEER. - - Lord save us! - - THE PASSENGER. - - Have ever you seen a man strangled, - Or hanged,—or drowned? - - PEER. - - This is going too far——! - - THE PASSENGER. - - The corpses all laugh. But their laughter is forced; - And the most part are found to have bitten their tongues. - - PEER. - - Hold off from me——! - - THE PASSENGER. - - Only one question, pray! - If we, for example, should strike on a rock, - And sink in the darkness—— - - PEER. - - You think there is danger? - - THE PASSENGER. - - I really don’t know what I ought to say. - But suppose, now, I float and you go to the bottom—— - - PEER. - - Oh, rubbish—— - - THE PASSENGER. - - It’s just a hypothesis. - But when one is placed with one foot in the grave, - One grows softhearted and open-handed—— - - PEER. - [_Puts his hand in his pocket._] - - Ho, money? - - THE PASSENGER. - - No, no; but perhaps you would kindly - Make me a gift of your much-esteemed carcass——? - - PEER. - - This is _too_ much! - - THE PASSENGER. - - No more than your body, you know! - To help my researches in science—— - - PEER. - - Begone! - - THE PASSENGER. - - But think, my dear sir—the advantage is yours! - I’ll have you laid open and brought to the light. - What I specially seek is the centre of dreams,— - And with critical care I’ll look into your seams—— - - PEER. - - Away with you! - - THE PASSENGER. - - Why, my dear sir—a drowned corpse——! - - PEER. - - Blasphemer! You’re goading the rage of the storm! - I call it too bad! Here it’s raining and blowing, - A terrible sea on, and all sorts of signs - Of something that’s likely to shorten our days;— - And you carry on so as to make it come quicker. - - THE PASSENGER. - - You’re in no mood, I see, to negotiate further; - But time, you know, brings with it many a change—— - [_Nods in a friendly fashion._ - We’ll meet when you’re sinking, if not before; - Perhaps I may then find you more in the humour. - [_Goes into the cabin._ - - PEER. - - Unpleasant companions these scientists are! - With their freethinking ways—— - [_To the BOATSWAIN, who is passing._ - Hark, a word with you, friend! - That passenger? What crazy creature is he? - - THE BOATSWAIN. - - I know of no passenger here but yourself. - - PEER. - - No others? This thing’s getting worse and worse. - [_To the SHIP’S BOY, who comes out of the cabin._ - Who went down the companion just now? - - THE BOY. - - The ship’s dog, sir! - - [_Passes on._ - - THE LOOK-OUT. - [_Shouts._] - - Land close ahead! - - PEER. - - Where’s my box? Where’s my trunk? - All the baggage on deck! - - THE BOATSWAIN. - - We have more to attend to! - - PEER. - - It was nonsense, captain! ’Twas only my joke;— - As sure as I’m here I will help the cook—— - - THE CAPTAIN. - - The jib’s blown away! - - THE MATE. - - And there went the foresail! - - THE BOATSWAIN. - [_Shrieks from forward._] - - Breakers under the bow! - - THE CAPTAIN. - - She will go to shivers! - - [_The ship strikes. Noise and confusion._ - - - SCENE SECOND. - - _Close under the land, among sunken rocks and surf. The ship - sinks. The jolly-boat, with two men in her, is seen for a - moment through the scud. A sea strikes her; she fills and - upsets. A shriek is heard; then all is silent for a while. - Shortly afterwards the boat appears floating bottom - upwards._ - - _PEER GYNT comes to the surface near the boat._ - - PEER. - - Help! Help! A boat! Help! I’ll be drowned! - Save me, oh Lord—as saith the text! - [_Clutches hold of the boat’s keel._ - - THE COOK. - [_Comes up on the other side._] - - Oh, Lord God—for my children’s sake, - Have mercy! Let me reach the land! - [_Seizes hold of the keel._ - - PEER. - - Let go! - - THE COOK. - - Let go! - - PEER. - - I’ll strike! - - THE COOK. - - So’ll I! - - PEER. - - I’ll crush you down with kicks and blows! - Let go your hold! She won’t float two! - - THE COOK. - - I know it! Yield! - - PEER. - - Yield you! - - THE COOK. - - Oh yes! - - [_They fight; one of the Cook’s hands is disabled; he - clings on with the other._ - - PEER. - - Off with that hand! - - THE COOK. - - Oh, kind sir—spare! - Think of my little ones at home - - PEER. - - I need my life far more than you, - For I am lone and childless still. - - THE COOK. - - Let go! You’ve lived, and I am young! - - PEER. - - Quick; haste you; sink;—you drag us down. - - THE COOK. - - Have mercy! Yield in heaven’s name! - There’s none to miss and mourn for you— - [_His hand slips; he screams._ - I’m drowning! - - PEER. - [_Seizing him._] - - By this wisp of hair - I’ll hold you; say your Lord’s Prayer, quick! - - THE COOK. - - I can’t remember; all turns black—— - - PEER. - - Come, the essentials in a word——! - - THE COOK. - - Give us this day——! - - PEER. - - Skip that part, Cook; - You’ll get all _you_ need, safe enough. - - THE COOK. - - Give us this day—— - - PEER. - - The same old song! - ’Tis plain you were a cook in life—— - [_The COOK slips from his grasp._ - - THE COOK. - [_Sinking._] - - Give us this day our—— - [_Disappears._ - - PEER. - - Amen, lad! - To the last gasp you were yourself.— - [_Draws himself up on to the bottom of the boat._ - So long as there is life there’s hope—— - - THE STRANGE PASSENGER. - [_Catches hold of the boat._] - - Good morning! - - PEER. - - Hoy! - - THE PASSENGER. - - I heard you shout.— - It’s pleasant finding you again. - Well? So my prophecy came true! - - PEER. - - Let go! Let go! ’Twill scarce float _one_! - - THE PASSENGER. - - I’m striking out with my left leg. - I’ll float, if only with their tips - My fingers rest upon this ledge. - But apropos: your body—— - - PEER. - - Hush! - - THE PASSENGER. - - The rest, of course, is done for, clean—— - - PEER. - - No more! - - THE PASSENGER. - - Exactly as you please. - [_Silence._ - - PEER. - - Well? - - THE PASSENGER. - - I am silent. - - PEER. - - Satan’s tricks!— - What now? - - THE PASSENGER. - - I’m waiting. - - PEER. - [_Tearing his hair._] - - I’ll go mad!— - What are you? - - THE PASSENGER. - [_Nods._] - - Friendly. - - PEER. - - What else! Speak! - - THE PASSENGER. - - What think you? Do you know none other - That’s like me? - - PEER. - - Do I know the devil——? - - THE PASSENGER. - [_In a low voice._] - - Is it _his_ way to light a lantern - For life’s night-pilgrimage through fear? - - PEER. - - Ah, come! When once the thing’s cleared up, - You’d seem a messenger of light? - - THE PASSENGER. - - Friend,—have you _once_ in each half-year - Felt all the earnestness of dread?[112] - - PEER. - - Why, one’s afraid when danger threatens;— - But all your words have double meanings.[113] - - THE PASSENGER. - - Ay, have you gained but _once_ in life - The victory that is given in dread? - - PEER. - [_Looks at him._] - - Came you to ope for me a door, - ’Twas stupid not to come before. - What sort of sense is there in choosing - Your time when seas gape to devour one? - - THE PASSENGER. - - Were, then, the victory more likely - Beside your hearthstone, snug and quiet? - - PEER. - - Perhaps not; but your talk was quizzical. - How could you fancy it awakening? - - THE PASSENGER. - - Where I come from, there smiles are prized - As highly as pathetic style. - - PEER. - - All has its time; what fits the taxman,[114] - So says the text, would damn the bishop. - - THE PASSENGER. - - The host whose dust inurned has slumbered - Treads not on week-days the cothurnus. - - PEER. - - Avaunt thee, bugbear! Man, begone! - I will not die! I must ashore! - - THE PASSENGER. - - Oh, as for that, be reassured;— - One dies not midmost of Act Five. - [_Glides away._ - - PEER. - - Ah, there he let it out at last;— - He was a sorry moralist. - - - SCENE THIRD. - - - _Churchyard in a high lying mountain parish._ - - _A funeral is going on. By the grave, the PRIEST and a gathering - of people. The last verse of the psalm is being sung. PEER - GYNT passes by on the road._ - - PEER. - [_At the gate._] - - Here’s a countryman going the way of all flesh. - God be thanked that it isn’t me. - [_Enters the churchyard._ - - THE PRIEST. - [_Speaking beside the grave._] - - Now, when the soul has gone to meet its doom, - And here the dust lies, like an empty pod,— - Now, my dear friends, we’ll speak a word or two - About this dead man’s pilgrimage on earth. - He was not wealthy, neither was he wise, - His voice was weak, his bearing was unmanly, - He spoke his mind abashed and faltering, - He scarce was master at his own fireside; - He sidled into church, as though appealing - For leave, like other men, to take his place. - It was from Gudbrandsdale, you know, he came. - When here he settled he was but a lad;— - And you remember how, to the very last, - He kept his right hand hidden in his pocket. - That right hand in the pocket was the feature - That chiefly stamped his image on the mind,— - And therewithal his writhing, his abashed - Shrinking from notice wheresoe’er he went. - But, though he still pursued a path aloof, - And ever seemed a stranger in our midst, - You all know what he strove so hard to hide,— - The hand he muffled had four fingers only.— - I well remember, many years ago, - One morning; there were sessions held at Lundë. - ’Twas war-time, and the talk in every mouth - Turned on the country’s sufferings and its fate. - I stood there watching. At the table sat - The Captain, ’twixt the Bailiff[115] and the sergeants; - Lad after lad was measured up and down, - Passed, and enrolled, and taken for a soldier. - The room was full, and from the green outside, - Where thronged the young folks, loud the laughter rang. - A name was called, and forth another stepped, - One pale as snow upon the glacier’s edge. - They bade the youth advance; he reached the table; - We saw his right hand swaddled in a clout;— - He gasped, he swallowed, battling after words,— - But, though the Captain urged him, found no voice. - Ah yes, at last! Then with his cheek aflame, - His tongue now failing him, now stammering fast - He mumbled something of a scythe that slipped - By chance, and shore his finger to the skin. - Straightway a silence fell upon the room. - Men bandied meaning glances; they made mouths; - They stoned the boy with looks of silent scorn. - He felt the hail-storm, but he saw it not. - Then up the Captain stood, the grey old man; - He spat, and pointed forth, and thundered “Go!” - And the lad went. On both sides men fell back, - Till through their midst he had to run the gauntlet. - He reached the door; from there he took to flight;— - Up, up he went,—through wood and over hillside, - Up through the stone-screes, rough, precipitous. - He had his home up there among the mountains.— - It was some six months later he came here, - With mother, and betrothed, and little child. - He leased some ground upon the high hill-side, - There where the waste lands trend away towards Lomb. - He married the first moment that he could; - He built a house; he broke the stubborn soil; - He throve, as many a cultivated patch - Bore witness, bravely clad in waving gold. - At church he kept his right hand in his pocket,— - But sure I am at home his fingers nine - Toiled every whit as hard as others’ ten.— - One spring the torrent washed it all away. - Their lives were spared. Ruined and stripped of all, - He set to work to make another clearing; - And, ere the autumn, smoke again arose - From a new, better-sheltered, mountain farm-house. - Sheltered? From torrent—not from avalanche; - Two years, and all beneath the snow lay buried. - But still the avalanche could not daunt his spirit. - He dug, and raked, and carted—cleared the ground— - And the next winter, ere the snow-blasts came, - A third time was his little homestead reared. - Three sons he had, three bright and stirring boys; - They must to school, and school was far away;— - And they must clamber, where the hill-track failed, - By narrow ledges past the headlong scree. - What did he do? The eldest had to manage - As best he might, and, where the path was worst, - His father bound a rope round him to stay him;— - The others on his back and arms he bore. - Thus he toiled, year by year, till they were men. - Now might he well have looked for some return. - In the New World, three prosperous gentlemen - Their school-going and their father have forgotten. - He was short-sighted. Out beyond the circle - Of those most near to him he nothing saw. - To him seemed meaningless as cymbals’ tinkling - Those words that to the heart should ring like steel. - His race, his fatherland, all things high and shining, - Stood ever, to his vision, veiled in mist. - But he was humble, humble, was this man; - And since that sessions-day his doom oppressed him, - As surely as his cheeks were flushed with shame, - And his four fingers hidden in his pocket.— - Offender ’gainst his country’s laws? Ay, true! - But there is one thing that the law outshineth - Sure as the snow-white tent of Glittertind[116] - Has clouds, like higher rows of peaks, above it. - No patriot was he. Both for church and state - A fruitless tree. But there, on the upland ridge, - In the small circle where he saw his calling, - _There_ he was great, because he was himself. - His inborn note rang true unto the end. - His days were as a lute with muted strings. - And therefore, peace be with thee, silent warrior, - That fought the peasant’s little fight, and fell! - It is not ours to search the heart and reins;— - That is no task for dust, but for its ruler;— - Yet dare I freely, firmly, speak my hope: - He scarce stands crippled now before his God! - - [_The gathering disperses. PEER GYNT remains behind, - alone._ - - PEER. - - Now _that_ is what I call Christianity! - Nothing to seize on one’s mind unpleasantly.— - And the topic—immovably being oneself,— - That the pastor’s homily turned upon,— - Is full, in its essence, of edification. - [_Looks down upon the grave._ - Was it he, I wonder, that hacked through his knuckle - That day I was out hewing logs in the forest? - Who knows? If I weren’t standing here with my staff - By the side of the grave of this kinsman in spirit, - I could almost believe it was I that slept, - And heard in a vision my panegyric.— - It’s a seemly and Christianlike custom indeed - This casting a so-called memorial glance - In charity over the life that is ended. - I shouldn’t at all mind accepting my verdict - At the hands of this excellent parish priest. - Ah well, I dare say I have some time left - Ere the gravedigger comes to invite me to stay with him;— - And as Scripture has it: What’s best is best,— - And: Enough for the day is the evil thereof,—[117] - And further: Discount not thy funeral.— - Ah, the Church, after all, is the true consoler. - I’ve hitherto scarcely appreciated it;— - But now I feel clearly how blessëd it is - To be well assured upon sound authority: - Even as thou sowest thou shalt one day reap.— - One must be oneself; for oneself and one’s own - One must do one’s best, both in great and in small things. - If the luck goes against you, at least you’ve the honour - Of a life carried through in accordance with principle.— - Now homewards! Though narrow and steep the path, - Though fate to the find may be never so biting— - Still old Peer Gynt will pursue his own way, - And remain what he is: poor, but virtuous ever. - - [_Goes out._ - - - SCENE FOURTH. - - _A hill-side seamed by the dry bed of a torrent. A ruined mill - house beside the stream. The ground is torn up, and the - whole place waste. Further up the hill, a large - farm-house._ - - _An auction is going on in front of the farm-house. There is a - great gathering of people, who are drinking, with much - noise. PEER GYNT is sitting on a rubbish-heap beside the - mill._ - - PEER. - - Forward and back, and it’s just as far; - Out and in, and it’s just as strait.— - Time wears away and the river gnaws on. - Go roundabout, the Boyg said;—and here one must. - - A MAN DRESSED IN MOURNING. - - Now there is only rubbish left over. - _[Catches sight of PEER GYNT._ - Are there strangers here too? God be with you, good friend! - - PEER. - - Well met! You have lively times here to-day. - Is’t a christening junket or wedding feast? - - THE MAN IN MOURNING. - - I’d rather call it a house-warming treat;— - The bride is laid in a wormy bed. - - PEER. - - And the worms are squabbling for rags and clouts. - - THE MAN IN MOURNING. - - That’s the end of the ditty; it’s over and done. - - PEER. - - All the ditties end just alike; - And they’re all old together; I knew ’em as a boy. - - A LAD OF TWENTY. - [_With a casting-ladle._] - - Just look what a rare thing I’ve been buying! - In this Peer Gynt cast his silver buttons. - - ANOTHER. - - Look at mine, though! The money-bag[118] bought for a halfpenny. - - A THIRD. - - No more, eh? Twopence for the pedlar’s pack! - - PEER. - - Peer Gynt? Who was he? - - THE MAN IN MOURNING. - - All I know is this: - He was kinsman to Death and to Aslak the Smith. - - A MAN IN GREY. - - You’re forgetting me, man! Are you mad or drunk? - - THE MAN IN MOURNING. - - You forget that at Hegstad was a storehouse door - - THE MAN IN GREY. - - Ay, true; but we know you were never dainty. - - THE MAN IN MOURNING. - - If only she doesn’t give Death the slip—— - - THE MAN IN GREY. - - Come, kinsman! A dram, for our kinship’s sake! - - THE MAN IN MOURNING. - - To the deuce with your kinship! You’re maundering in drink—— - - THE MAN IN GREY. - - Oh, rubbish; blood’s never so thin as all that; - One cannot but feel one’s akin to Peer Gynt. - [_Goes off with him._ - - PEER. - [_To himself._] - - One meets with acquaintances. - - A LAD. - [_Calls after the MAN IN MOURNING._] - - Mother that’s dead - Will be after you, Aslak, if you wet your whistle. - - PEER. - [_Rises._] - - The husbandman’s saying seems scarce to hold here: - The deeper one harrows the better it smells. - - A LAD. - [_With a bear’s skin._] - - Look, the cat of the Dovrë![119] Well, only his fell. - It was he chased the trolls out on Christmas Eve. - - ANOTHER. - [_With a reindeer skull._] - - Here is the wonderful reindeer that bore, - At Gendin, Peer Gynt over edge and scree. - - A THIRD. - [_With a hammer, calls out to the MAN IN MOURNING._] - - Hei, Aslak, this sledge-hammer, say, do you know it? - Was it this that you used when the devil clove the wall? - - A FOURTH. - [_Empty-handed._] - - Mads Moen, here’s the invisible cloak - Peer Gynt and Ingrid flew off through the air with. - - PEER. - - Brandy here, boys! I feel I’m grown old;— - I must put up to auction my rubbish and lumber! - - A LAD. - - What have you to sell, then? - - PEER. - - A palace I have;— - It lies in the Rondë; it’s solidly built. - - THE LAD. - - A button is bid! - - PEER. - - You must run to a dram. - ’Twere a sin and a shame to bid anything less. - - ANOTHER. - - He’s a jolly old boy this! - [_The bystanders crowd around him._ - - PEER. - [_Shouts._] - - Granë,[120] my steed; - Who bids? - - ONE OF THE CROWD. - - Where’s he running? - - PEER. - - Why, far in the west! - Near the sunset, my lads! Ah, that courser can fly - As fast, ay, as fast as Peer Gynt could lie. - - VOICES. - - What more have you got? - - PEER. - - I’ve both rubbish and gold! - I bought it with ruin; I’ll sell it at a loss. - - A LAD. - - Put it up! - - PEER. - - A dream of a silver-clasped book! - That you can have for an old hook and eye. - - THE LAD. - - To the devil with dreams! - - PEER. - - Here’s my Kaiserdom! - I throw it in the midst of you; scramble for it! - - THE LAD. - - Is the crown given in? - - PEER. - - Of the loveliest straw. - It will fit whoever first puts it on. - Hei, there is more yet! An addled egg! - A madman’s grey hair! And the Prophet’s beard! - All these shall be his that will show on the hillside - A post that has writ on it; Here lies your path! - - THE BAILIFF.[121] - [_Who has come up._] - - You’re carrying on, my good man, so that almost - I think that your path will lead straight to the lock-up. - - PEER. - [_Hat in hand._] - - Quite likely. But, tell me, who was Peer Gynt? - - THE BAILIFF. - - Oh, nonsense—— - - PEER. - - Your pardon! Most humbly I beg——! - - THE BAILIFF. - - Oh, he’s said to have been an abominable liar——[122] - - PEER. - - A liar——? - - THE BAILIFF. - - Yes—all that was strong and great - He made believe always that he had done it. - But, excuse me, friend—I have other duties—— - - [_Goes._ - - PEER. - - And where is he now, this remarkable man? - - AN ELDERLY MAN. - - He fared over seas to a foreign land; - It went ill with him there, as one well might foresee;— - It’s many a year now since he was hanged. - - PEER. - - Hanged! Ay, ay! Why, I thought as much; - Our lamented Peer Gynt was himself to the last. - [_Bows._ - Good-bye,—and best thanks for to-day’s merry meeting. - [_Goes a few steps, but stops again._ - You joyous youngsters, you comely lasses,— - Shall I pay my shot with a traveller’s tale? - - SEVERAL VOICES. - - Yes; do you know any? - - PEER. - - Nothing more easy.— - - [_He comes nearer; a look of strangeness comes over - him._ - - I was gold-digging once in San Francisco. - There were mountebanks swarming all over the town. - One with his toes could perform on the fiddle; - Another could dance a Spanish halling[123] on his knees; - A third, I was told, kept on making verses - While his brain-pan was having a hole bored right through it. - To the mountebank-meeting came also the devil;— - Thought _he_’d try his luck with the rest of them. - His talent was this: in a manner convincing, - He was able to grunt like a flesh-and-blood pig. - He was not recognised, yet his manners[124] attracted. - The house was well filled; expectation ran high. - He stepped forth in a cloak with an ample cape to it; - _Man muss sich drappiren_, as the Germans say. - But under the mantle—what none suspected— - He’d managed to smuggle a real live pig. - And now he opened the representation; - The devil he pinched, and the pig gave voice. - The whole thing purported to be a fantasia - On the porcine existence, both free and in bonds; - And all ended up with a slaughter-house squeal— - Whereupon the performer bowed low and retired.— - The critics discussed and appraised the affair; - The tone of the whole was attacked and defended. - Some fancied the vocal expression too thin, - While some thought the death-shriek too carefully studied; - But all were agreed as to one thing: _qua_ grunt, - The performance was grossly exaggerated.— - Now _that_, you see, came of the devil’s stupidity - In not taking the measure of his public first. - - [_He bows and goes off. A puzzled silence comes over the - crowd._ - - - SCENE FIFTH. - - _Whitsun Eve.—In the depths of the forest. To the back, in a - clearing, is a hut with a pair of reindeer horns over the - porch-gable._ - - _PEER GYNT is creeping among the undergrowth, gathering wild - onions._ - - PEER. - - Well, this is one standpoint. Where is the next? - One should try all things and choose the best. - Well, I have done so,—beginning from Cæsar, - And downwards as far as to Nebuchadnezzar. - So I’ve had, after all, to go through Bible history;— - The old boy has come back to his mother again. - After all it is written: Of the earth art thou come.— - The main thing in life is to fill one’s belly. - Fill it with onions? That’s not much good;— - I must take to cunning, and set out snares. - There’s water in the beck here; I shan’t suffer thirst; - And I count as the first ’mong the beasts after all. - When my time comes to die—as most likely it will,— - I shall crawl in under a wind-fallen tree; - Like the bear, I will heap up a leaf-mound above me, - And I’ll scratch in big print on the bark of the tree: - Here rests Peer Gynt, that decent soul - Kaiser o’er all of the other beasts.— - Kaiser? - [_Laughs inwardly._ - Why, you old soothsayer’s-dupe! - No Kaiser are you; you are nought but an onion. - I’m going to peel you now, my good Peer! - You won’t escape either by begging or howling. - - [_Takes an onion and strips off one coat after another._ - - There lies the outermost layer, all torn; - That’s the shipwrecked man on the jolly-boat’s keel. - Here’s the passenger layer, scanty and thin;— - And yet in its taste there’s a tang of Peer Gynt. - Next underneath is the gold-digger ego; - The juice is all gone—if it ever had any. - This coarse-grained layer with the hardened skin - Is the peltry hunter by Hudson’s Bay. - The next one looks like a crown;—oh, thanks! - We’ll throw it away without more ado. - Here’s the archæologist, short but sturdy, - And here is the Prophet, juicy and fresh. - He stinks, as the Scripture has it, of lies, - Enough to bring the water to an honest man’s eyes. - This layer that rolls itself softly together - Is the gentleman, living in ease and good cheer. - The next one seems sick. There are black streaks upon it;— - Black symbolises both parsons and niggers. - [_Pulls off several layers at once._ - What an enormous number of swathings! - Is not the kernel soon coming to light? - [_Pulls the whole onion to pieces._ - I’m blest if it is! To the innermost centre, - It’s nothing but swathings—each smaller and smaller.— - Nature is witty! - [_Throws the fragments away._ - The devil take brooding! - If one goes about thinking, one’s apt to stumble. - Well, _I_ can at any rate laugh at that danger;— - For here on all fours I am firmly planted. - [_Scratches his head._ - A queer enough business, the whole concern! - Life, as they say, plays with cards up its sleeve;[125] - But when one snatches at them, they’ve disappeared, - And one grips something else,—or else nothing at all. - - [_He has come near to the hut; he catches sight of it - and starts._ - - This hut? On the heath——! Ha! - [_Rubs his eyes._ - It seems exactly - As though I had known this same building before.— - The reindeer-horns jutting above the gable!— - A mermaid, shaped like a fish from the navel!— - Lies! there’s no mermaid! But nails—and planks,— - Bars too, to shut out hobgoblin thoughts!— - - SOLVEIG. - [_Singing in the hut._] - - Now all is ready for Whitsun Eve. - Dearest boy of mine, far away, - Comest thou soon? - Is thy burden heavy, - Take time, take time;— - I will await thee; - I promised of old.[126] - - PEER. - [_Rises, quiet and deadly pale._] - - One that’s remembered,—and one that’s forgot. - One that has squandered,—and one that has saved.— - Oh, earnest!—and never can the game be played o’er! - Oh, dread![127]—here was my Kaiserdom! - [_Hurries off-along the wood path._ - - - SCENE SIXTH. - - - _Night. A heath, with fir-trees. A forest fire has been raging; - charred tree-trunks are seen stretching for miles. White - mists here and there clinging to the earth._ - - _PEER GYNT comes running over the heath._ - - PEER. - - Ashes, fog-scuds, dust wind-driven,— - Here’s enough for building with! - Stench and rottenness within it; - All a whited sepulchre. - Figments, dreams, and still-born knowledge - Lay the pyramid’s foundation; - O’er them shall the work mount upwards, - With its step on step of falsehood. - Earnest shunned, repentance dreaded, - Flaunt at the apex like a scutcheon, - Fill the trump of judgment with their - “Petrus Gyntus Cæsar fecit!” - [_Listens._ - What is this, like children’s weeping? - Weeping, but half-way to song.— - Thread-balls[128] at my feet are rolling!— - [_Kicking at them._ - Off with you! You block my path! - - THE THREAD-BALLS. - [_On the ground._] - - We are thoughts; - Thou shouldst have thought us;— - Feet to run on - Thou shouldst have given us! - - PEER. - [_Going round about._] - - I have given life to _one_;— - ’Twas a bungled, crook-legged thing! - - THE THREAD-BALLS. - - We should have soared up - Like clangorous voices,—— - And here we must trundle - As grey-yarn thread-balls. - - PEER. - [_Stumbling._] - - Thread-clue! you accursed scamp! - Would you trip your father’s heels? - [_Flees._ - - WITHERED LEAVES. - [_Flying before the wind._] - - We are a watchword; - Thou shouldst have proclaimed us! - See how thy dozing - Has wofully riddled us. - The worm has gnawed us. - In every crevice; - We have never twined us - Like wreaths round fruitage. - - PEER. - - Not in vain your birth, however;— - but still and serve as manure. - - A SIGHING IN THE AIR. - - We are songs; - Thou shouldst have sung us!— - A thousand times over - Hast thou cowed us and smothered us. - Down in thy heart’s pit - We have lain and waited;— - We were never called forth. - Thy gorge we poison! - - PEER. - - Poison thee, thou foolish stave! - Had I time for verse and stuff? - [_Attempts a short cut._ - - DEWDROPS. - [_Dripping from the branches._] - - We are tears - Unshed for ever. - Ice-spears, sharp-wounding, - We could have melted. - Now the barb rankles - In the shaggy bosom;— - The wound is closed over; - Our power is ended. - - PEER. - - Thanks;—I wept in Rondë-cloisters,— - None the less my tail-part smarted! - - BROKEN STRAWS. - - We are deeds; - Thou shouldst have achieved us! - Doubt, the throttler, - Has crippled and riven us. - On the Day of Judgment - We’ll come a-flock, - And tell the story,— - Then woe to you! - - PEER. - - Rascal-tricks! How dare you debit - What is _negative_ against me? - [_Hastens away._ - - ÅSE’S VOICE. - [_Far away._] - - Fie, what a post-boy! - Hu, you’ve upset me - Here in the slush, boy! - Sadly it’s smirched me.— - You’ve driven me the wrong way. - Peer, where’s the castle? - The Fiend has misled you - With the switch from the cupboard. - - PEER. - - Better haste away, poor fellow! - With the devil’s sins upon you, - Soon you’ll faint upon the hillside;— - Hard enough to bear one’s own sins. - [_Runs off._ - - - SCENE SEVENTH. - - - _Another part of the heath._ - - PEER GYNT. - [_Sings._] - - A sexton! A sexton! where are you, hounds? - A song from braying precentor-mouths: - Around your hat-brim a mourning band;— - My dead are many; I must follow their biers! - - _THE BUTTON-MOULDER, with a box of tools and a large - casting-ladle, comes from a side path._ - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Well met, old gaffer! - - PEER. - - Good evening, friend! - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - The man’s in a hurry. Why, where is he going? - - PEER. - - To a grave-feast. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Indeed? My sight’s not very good;— - Excuse me,—your name doesn’t chance to be Peer? - - PEER. - - Peer Gynt, as the saying is. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - That I call luck! - It’s precisely Peer Gynt I am sent for to-night. - - PEER. - - You’re sent for? What do you want? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Why, see here; - I mould buttons; and you must go into my ladle. - - PEER. - - What to do there? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - To be melted up. - - PEER. - - To be melted? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Here it is, empty and scoured. - Your grave is dug ready, your coffin bespoke. - The worms in your body will live at their ease;— - But I have orders, without delay, - On Master’s behalf to fetch in your soul. - - PEER. - - It can’t be! Like this, without any warning——! - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - It’s an old tradition at burials and births - To appoint in secret the day of the feast, - With no warning at all to the guest of honour. - - PEER. - - Ay, ay, that’s true. All my brain’s awhirl. - You are——? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Why, I told you—a button-moulder. - - PEER. - - I see! A pet child has many nicknames. - So that’s it, Peer; it is there you’re to harbour - But these, my good man, are most unfair proceedings! - I’m sure I deserve better treatment than this;— - I’m not nearly so bad as perhaps you think,— - Indeed I’ve done more or less good in the world;— - At worst you may call me a sort of a bungler,— - But certainly not an exceptional sinner. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Why that is precisely the rub, my man; - You’re no sinner at all in the higher sense; - That’s why you’re excused all the torture-pangs, - And, like others, land in the casting-ladle. - - PEER. - - Give it what name you please—call it ladle or pool;[129] - Spruce ale and swipes, they are both of them beer. - Avaunt from me, Satan! - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - You can’t be so rude - As to take my foot for a horse’s hoof? - - PEER. - - On horse’s hoof or on fox’s claws[130]— - Be off; and be careful what you’re about! - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - My friend, you’re making a great mistake. - We’re both in a hurry, and so, to save time, - I’ll explain the reason of the whole affair. - You are, with your own lips you told me so, - No sinner on the so-called heroic scale,— - Scarce middling even—— - - PEER. - - Ah, now you’re beginning - To talk common sense—— - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Just have patience a bit— - But to call you a good man were going too far.— - - PEER. - - Well, you know I have never laid claim to that. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - You’re nor one thing nor t’other then, only so-so. - A sinner of really grandiose style - Is nowadays not to be met on the highways. - It wants much more than merely to wallow in mire; - For both vigour and earnestness go to a sin. - - PEER. - - Ay, it’s very true that remark of yours; - One has to lay on, like the old Berserkers. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - You, friend, on the other hand, took your sin lightly. - - PEER. - - Only outwardly, friend, like a splash of mud. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Ah, we’ll soon be at one now. The sulphur pool - Is no place for you, who but plashed in the mire. - - PEER. - - And in consequence, friend, I may go as I came? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - No, in consequence, friend, I must melt you up. - - PEER. - - What tricks are these that you’ve hit upon - At home here, while I’ve been in foreign parts? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - The custom’s as old as the Snake’s creation; - It’s designed to prevent loss of good material. - You’ve worked at the craft—you must know that often - A casting turns out, to speak plainly, mere dross; - The buttons, for instance, have sometimes no loop to them. - What did you do then? - - PEER. - - Flung the rubbish away. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Ah, yes; Jon Gynt was well known for a waster, - So long as he’d aught left in wallet or purse. - But Master, you see, he is thrifty, he is; - And that is why he’s so well-to-do. - He flings nothing away as entirely worthless - That can be made use of as raw material. - Now, you were designed for a shining button - On the vest of the world; but your loop gave way; - So into the waste-box you needs must go, - And then, as they phrase it, be merged in the mass. - - PEER. - - You’re surely not meaning to melt me up, - With Dick, Tom, and Hal,[131] into something new? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - That just what I do mean, and nothing else. - We’ve done it already to plenty of folks. - At Kongsberg[132] they do just the same with coin - That’s been current so long that its impress is lost. - - PEER. - - But this is the wretchedest miserliness! - My dear good friend, let me get off free;— - A loopless button, a worn out farthing,— - What is _that_ to a man in your Master’s position? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Oh, so long as, and seeing, the spirit is in you, - You always have value as so much metal. - - PEER. - - No, I say! No! With both teeth and claws - I’ll fight against this! Sooner anything else! - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - But what else? Come now, be reasonable. - You know you’re not airy enough for heaven—— - - PEER. - - I’m not hard to content; I don’t aim so high;— - But I won’t be deprived of one doit of my Self. - Have me judged by the law in the old-fashioned way! - For a certain time place me with Him of the Hoof;— - Say a hundred years, come the worst to the worst; - That, now, is a thing that one surely can bear; - They say that the torment is moral no more, - So it can’t be so pyramid-like after all. - It is, as ’tis written, a mere transition; - And as the fox said: One waits; there comes - An hour of deliverance; one lives in seclusion, - And hopes in the meantime for happier days.— - But this other notion—to have to be merged, - Like a mote, in the carcass of some outsider,— - This casting-ladle business, this Gynt-cessation,— - It stirs up my innermost soul in revolt! - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Bless me, my dear Peer, there is surely no need - To get so wrought up about trifles like this. - Yourself you never have been at all;— - Then what does it matter, your dying right out? - - PEER. - - Have _I_ not been——? I could almost laugh! - Peer Gynt, then, has been something else, I suppose! - No, Button-moulder, you judge in the dark. - If you could but look into my very reins, - You’d find only Peer there, and Peer all through,— - Nothing else in the world, no, nor anything more. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - It’s impossible. Here I have got my orders. - Look, here it is written: Peer Gynt shalt thou summon. - He has set at defiance his life’s design; - Clap him into the ladle with other spoilt goods. - - PEER. - - What nonsense! They must mean some other person. - Is it really Peer? It’s not Rasmus, or Jon? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - It is many a day since I melted them. - So come quietly now, and don’t waste my time. - - PEER. - - I’ll be damned if I do! Ay, ’twould be a fine thing - If it turned out to-morrow some one else was meant. - You’d better take care what you’re at, my good man! - Think of the onus you’re taking upon you—— - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - I have it in writing—— - - PEER. - - At least give me time! - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - What good would that do you? - - PEER. - - I’ll use it to prove - That I’ve been myself all the days of my life; - And that’s the question that’s in dispute. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - You’ll prove it? And how? - - PEER. - - Why, by vouchers and witnesses. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - I’m sadly afraid Master will not accept them. - - PEER. - - Impossible! However, enough for the day[133]—! - My dear man, allow me a loan of myself; - I’ll be back again shortly. One is born only once, - And one’s self, as created, one fain would stick to. - Come, are we agreed? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Very well then, so be it. - But remember, we meet at the next cross-roads. - - [_PEER GYNT runs off._ - - - SCENE EIGHTH. - - - _A further point on the heath._ - - PEER. - [_Running hard._] - - Time is money, as the Scripture says. - If I only knew where the cross-roads are;— - They may be near and they may be far. - The earth burns beneath me like red-hot iron. - A witness! A witness! Oh, where shall I find one? - It’s almost unthinkable here in the forest. - The world is a bungle! A wretched arrangement, - When a right must be proved that is patent as day! - - _An OLD MAN, bent with age, with a staff in his hand and - a bag on his back, is trudging in front of him._ - - THE OLD MAN. - [_Stops._] - - Dear, kind sir—a trifle to a houseless soul! - - PEER. - - Excuse me; I’ve got no small change in my pocket—— - - THE OLD MAN. - - Prince Peer! Oh, to think we should meet again——! - - PEER. - - Who are you? - - THE OLD MAN. - - You forget the Old Man in the Rondë? - - PEER. - - Why, you’re never——? - - THE OLD MAN. - - The King of the Dovrë, my boy! - - PEER. - - The Dovrë-King? Really? The Dovrë-King? Speak! - - THE OLD MAN. - - Oh, I’ve come terribly down in the world——! - - PEER. - - Ruined? - - THE OLD MAN. - - Ay, plundered of every stiver. - Here am I tramping it, starved as a wolf. - - PEER. - - Hurrah! Such a witness doesn’t grow on the trees. - - THE OLD MAN. - - My Lord Prince, too, has grizzled a bit since we met. - - PEER. - - My dear father-in-law, the years gnaw and wear one.— - Well well, a truce to all private affairs,— - And pray, above all things, no family jars. - I was then a sad madcap—— - - THE OLD MAN. - - Oh yes; oh yes;— - His Highness was young; and what won’t one do then? - But his Highness was wise in rejecting his bride. - He saved himself thereby both worry and shame, - For since then she’s utterly gone to the bad—— - - PEER. - - Indeed! - - THE OLD MAN. - - She has led a deplorable life;[134] - And, just think,—she and Trond are now living together. - - PEER. - - Which Trond? - - THE OLD MAN. - - Of the Valfjeld. - - PEER. - - It’s he? Aha; - It was he I cut out with the sæter-girls. - - THE OLD MAN. - - But my grandson has shot up both stout and tall, - And has flourishing children all over the land—— - - PEER. - - Now, my dear man, spare us this flow of words;— - I’ve something quite different troubling my mind.— - I’ve got into rather a ticklish position, - And am greatly in need of a witness or voucher;— - That’s how you could help me best, father-in-law, - And I’ll find you a trifle to drink my health. - - THE OLD MAN. - - You don’t say so; can I be of use to his Highness? - You’ll give me a character, then, in return? - - PEER. - - Most gladly. I’m somewhat hard pressed for cash, - And must cut down expenses in every direction. - Now hear what’s the matter. No doubt you remember - That night when I came to the Rondë a-wooing—— - - THE OLD MAN. - - Why, of course, my Lord Prince! - - PEER. - - Oh, no more of the Prince! - But no matter. You wanted, by sheer brute force, - To bias my sight, with a slit in the lens, - And to change me about from Peer Gynt to a troll. - What did _I_ do then? I stood out against it,— - Swore I would stand on no feet but my own; - Love, power, and glory at once I renounced, - And all for the sake of remaining myself. - Now this fact, you see, you must swear to in Court—— - - THE OLD MAN. - - No, I’m blest if I can. - - PEER. - - Why, what nonsense is this? - - THE OLD MAN. - - You surely don’t want to compel me to lie? - You pulled on the troll-breeches, don’t you remember, - And tasted the mead—— - - PEER. - - Ay, you lured me seductively;— - But I flatly declined the decisive test, - And that is the thing you must judge your man by. - It’s the end of the ditty that all depends on. - - THE OLD MAN. - - But it ended, Peer, just in the opposite way. - - PEER. - - What rubbish is this? - - THE OLD MAN. - - When you left the Rondë, - You inscribed my motto upon your escutcheon.[135] - - PEER. - - What motto? - - THE OLD MAN. - - The potent and sundering word. - - PEER. - - The word? - - THE OLD MAN. - - That which severs the whole race of men - From the troll-folk: _Troll! To thyself be enough!_ - - PEER. - [_Recoils a step._] - - _Enough!_ - - THE OLD MAN. - - And with every nerve in your body, - You’ve been living up to it ever since. - - PEER. - - What, I? Peer Gynt? - - THE OLD MAN. - [_Weeps._] - - It’s ungrateful of you! - You’ve lived as a troll, but have still kept it secret. - The word I taught you has shown you the way - To swing yourself up as a man of substance;— - And now you must needs come and turn up your nose - At me and the word you’ve to thank for it all. - - PEER. - - _Enough!_ A hill-troll! An egoist! - This must be all rubbish; that’s perfectly certain! - - THE OLD MAN. - [_Pulls out a bundle of old newspapers._] - - I daresay you think we don’t take in the papers? - Wait; here I’ll show you in red and black[136] - How the “Bloksberg Post” eulogises you; - And the “Heklefjeld Journal” has done the same - Ever since the winter you left the country.— - Do you care to read them? You’re welcome, Peer. - Here’s an article, look you, signed “Stallion-hoof.” - And here too is one: “On Troll-Nationalism.” - The writer points out and lays stress on the truth - That horns and a tail are of little importance, - So long as one has but a strip of the hide. - “Our _enough_,” he concludes, “gives the hallmark of trolldom - To man,”—and proceeds to cite you as an instance. - - PEER. - - A hill-troll? I? - - THE OLD MAN. - - Yes, that’s perfectly clear. - - PEER. - - Might as well have stayed quietly where I was? - Might have stayed in the Rondë in comfort and peace? - Saved my trouble and toil and no end of shoe-leather? - Peer Gynt—a troll? Why, it’s rubbish! It’s stuff! - Good-bye! There’s a halfpenny to buy you tobacco. - - THE OLD MAN. - - Nay, my good Prince Peer! - - PEER. - - Let me go! You’re mad, - Or else doting. Off to the hospital with you! - - THE OLD MAN. - - Oh, that is exactly what I’m in search of. - But, as I told you, my grandson’s offspring - Have become overwhelmingly strong in the land, - And they say that I only exist in books. - The saw says: One’s kin are unkindest of all; - I’ve found to my cost that that saying is true. - It’s cruel to count as mere figment and fable—— - - PEER. - - My dear man, there are others who share the same fate. - - THE OLD MAN. - - And ourselves we’ve no Mutual Aid Society, - No alms-box or Penny Savings Bank;— - In the Rondë, of course, they’d be out of place. - - PEER. - - No, that curs’d: _To thyself be enough_ was the word there! - - THE OLD MAN. - - Oh, come now, the Prince can’t complain of the word. - And if he could manage by hook or by crook—— - - PEER. - - My man, you have got on the wrong scent entirely; - I’m myself, as the saying goes, fairly cleaned out[137]—— - - THE OLD MAN. - - You surely can’t mean it? His Highness a beggar? - - PEER. - - Completely. His Highness’s ego’s in pawn. - And it’s all your fault, you accursed trolls! - That’s what comes of keeping bad company. - - THE OLD MAN. - - So there came my hope toppling down from its perch again! - Good-bye! I had best struggle on to the town—— - - PEER. - - What would you do there? - - THE OLD MAN. - - I will go to the theatre. - The papers are clamouring for national talents—— - - PEER. - - Good luck on your journey; and greet them from me. - If I can but get free, I will go the same way. - A farce I will write them, a mad and profound one; - Its name shall be: “Sic transit gloria mundi.” - - [_He runs off along the road; the OLD MAN shouts after - him._ - - - SCENE NINTH. - - [_At a cross-road._] - - PEER GYNT. - - Now comes the pinch, Peer, as never before! - This Dovrish _Enough_ has passed judgment upon you. - The vessel’s a wreck; one must float with the spars. - All else; but to go to the scrap-heap—no, no! - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - [_At the cross-road._] - - Well now, Peer Gynt, have you found your voucher? - - PEER. - - Is this, then, the cross-road? Well, that is short work! - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - I can see on your face, as it were on a sign-board, - The gist of the paper before I have read it. - - PEER. - - I got tired of the hunt;—one might lose one’s way—— - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Yes; and what does it lead to, after all? - - PEER. - - True enough; in the wood, and by night as well—— - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - There’s an old man, though, trudging. Shall we call him here? - - PEER. - - No, let him go. He is drunk, my dear fellow! - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - But perhaps he might—— - - PEER. - - Hush; no—let him alone! - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Well, shall we begin then? - - PEER. - - One question—just one: - What is it, at bottom, this “being oneself”? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - A singular question, most odd in the mouth - Of a man who but now—— - - PEER. - - Come, a straightforward answer. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - To be oneself is: to slay oneself. - But on you that answer is doubtless lost; - And therefore we’ll say: to stand forth everywhere - With Master’s intention displayed like a sign-board. - - PEER. - - But suppose a man never has come to know - What Master meant with him? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - He must divine it. - - PEER. - - But how oft are divinings beside the mark,— - Then one’s carried “ad undas”[138] in middle career. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - That is certain, Peer Gynt; in default of divining - The cloven-hoofed gentleman finds his best hook. - - PEER. - - This matter’s excessively complicated.— - See here! I no longer plead being myself;— - It might not be easy to get it proven. - That part of my case I must look on as lost. - But just now, as I wandered alone o’er the heath, - I felt my conscience-shoe pinching me; - I said to myself: After all, you’re a sinner—— - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - You seem bent on beginning all over again—— - - PEER. - - No, very far from it; a _great_ one I mean; - Not only in deeds, but in words and desires. - I’ve lived a most damnable life abroad—— - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Perhaps; I must ask you to show me the schedule! - - PEER. - - Well well, give me time; I will find out a parson, - Confess with all speed, and then bring you his voucher. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Ay, if you can bring me that, then it is clear - You may yet escape from the casting-ladle. - But Peer, I’d my orders—— - - PEER. - - The paper is old; - It dates no doubt from a long past period;— - At one time I lived with disgusting slackness, - Went playing the prophet, and trusted in Fate. - Well, may I try? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - But——! - - PEER. - - My dear, good man, - I’m sure you can’t have so much to do. - Here, in this district, the air is so bracing, - It adds an ell to the people’s ages. - Recollect what the Justedal parson wrote: - “It’s seldom that any one dies in this valley.” - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - To the next cross-roads then; but not a step further. - - PEER. - - A priest I must catch, if it be with the tongs. - [_He starts running._ - - - SCENE TENTH. - - - _A heather-clad hillside with a path following the windings of - the ridge._ - - PEER. - - This may come in useful in many ways, - Said Esben as he picked up a magpie’s wing. - Who could have thought one’s account of sins - Would come to one’s aid on the last night of all? - Well, whether or no, it’s a ticklish business; - A move from the frying-pan[139] into the fire;— - But then there’s a proverb of well-tried validity - Which says that as long as there’s life there is hope. - - _A LEAN PERSON in a priest’s cassock, kilted-up high, - and with a birding-net over his shoulder, comes - hurrying along the ridge._ - - PEER. - - Who goes there? A priest with a fowling-net! - Hei, hop! I’m the spoilt child of fortune indeed! - Good evening, Herr Pastor! the path is bad—— - - THE LEAN ONE. - - Ah yes; but what wouldn’t one do for a soul? - - PEER. - - Aha! then there’s some one bound heavenwards? - - THE LEAN ONE. - - No; - I hope he is taking a different road. - - PEER. - - May I walk with Herr Pastor a bit of the way? - - THE LEAN ONE. - - With pleasure; I’m partial to company. - - PEER. - - I should like to consult you—— - - THE LEAN ONE. - - __Heraus!__[140] Go ahead! - - PEER. - - You see here before you a good sort of man. - The laws of the state I have strictly observed, - Have made no acquaintance with fetters or bolts;— - But it happens at times that one misses one’s footing - And stumbles—— - - THE LEAN ONE. - - Ah yes; that occurs to the best of us. - - PEER. - - Now these trifles you see—— - - THE LEAN ONE. - - Only trifles? - - PEER. - - Yes; - From sinning _en gros_[140] I have ever refrained. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - Oh then, my dear fellow, pray leave me in peace;— - I’m not the person you seem to think me.— - You look at my fingers: What see you in them? - - PEER. - - A nail-system somewhat extremely developed. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - And now? You are casting a glance at my feet? - - PEER. - [_Pointing._] - - That’s a natural hoof? - - THE LEAN ONE. - - So I flatter myself. - - PEER. - [_Raises his hat._] - - I’d have taken my oath you were simply a parson; - And I find I’ve the honour——. Well, best is best;— - When the hall door stands wide,—shun the kitchen way; - When the king’s to be met with,—avoid the lackey. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - Your hand! You appear to be free from prejudice. - Say on then, my friend; in what way can I serve you? - Now you mustn’t ask me for wealth or power; - I couldn’t supply them although I should hang for it. - You can’t think how slack the whole business is;— - Transactions have dwindled most pitiably. - Nothing doing in souls; only now and again - A stray one—— - - PEER. - - The race has improved so remarkably? - - THE LEAN ONE. - - No, just the reverse; it’s sunk shamefully low;— - The majority end in a casting-ladle. - - PEER. - - Ah yes—I have heard that ladle mentioned; - In fact, ’twas the cause of my coming to you. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - Speak out! - - PEER. - - If it were not too much to ask, - I should like—— - - THE LEAN ONE. - - A harbour of refuge? eh? - - PEER. - - You’ve guessed my petition before I have asked. - You tell me the business is going awry; - So I daresay you will not be over-particular. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - But, my dear—— - - PEER. - - My demands are in no way excessive. - I shouldn’t insist on a salary; - But treatment as friendly as things will permit. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - A fire in your room? - - PEER. - - Not too much fire;—and chiefly - The power of departing in safety and peace,— - The right, as the phrase goes, of freely withdrawing - Should an opening offer for happier days. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - My dear friend, I vow I’m sincerely distressed; - But you cannot imagine how many petitions - Of similar purport good people send in, - When they’re quitting the scene of their earthly activity. - - PEER. - - But now that I think of my past career, - I feel I’ve an absolute claim to admission—— - - THE LEAN ONE. - - ’Twas but trifles, you said—— - - PEER. - - In a certain sense;— - But, now I remember, I’ve trafficked in slaves—— - - THE LEAN ONE. - - There are men that have trafficked in wills and souls, - But who bungled it so that they failed to get in. - - PEER. - - I’ve shipped Bramah-figures in plenty to China. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - Mere wish-wash again! Why, we laugh at such things. - There are people that ship off far gruesomer figures - In sermons, in art, and in literature, - Yet have to stay out in the cold—— - - PEER. - - Ah, but then, - Do you know—I once went and set up as a prophet! - - THE LEAN ONE. - - In foreign parts? Humbug! Why most people’s _Sehen - Ins Blaue_[141] ends in the casting-ladle. - If you’ve no more than that to rely upon, - With the best of good will, I can’t possibly house you. - - PEER. - - But hear this: In a shipwreck—I clung to a boat’s keel,— - And it’s written: A drowning man grasps at a straw,— - Furthermore it is written: You’re nearest yourself,— - So I half-way divested a cook of his life. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - It were all one to me if a kitchen-maid - You had half-way divested of something else. - What sort of stuff is this half-way jargon, - Saving your presence? Who, think you, would care - To throw away dearly-bought fuel, in times - Like these, on such spiritless rubbish as this? - There now, don’t be enraged; ’twas your sins that I scoffed at; - And excuse my speaking my mind so bluntly.— - Come, my dearest friend, banish this stuff from your head,[142] - And get used to the thought of the casting-ladle. - What would you gain if I lodged you and boarded you? - Consider; I know you’re a sensible man. - Well, you’d keep your memory; that’s so far true;— - But the retrospect o’er recollection’s domain - Would be, both for heart and for intellect, - What the Swedes call “Mighty poor sport”[143] indeed. - You have nothing either to howl or to smile about; - No cause for rejoicing nor yet for despair; - Nothing to make you feel hot or cold; - Only a sort of a something to fret over. - - PEER. - - It is written: It’s never so easy to know - Where the shoe is tight that one isn’t wearing. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - Very true; I have—praise be to so-and-so!— - No occasion for more than a single odd shoe. - But it’s lucky we happened to speak of shoes; - It reminds me that I must be hurrying on;— - I’m after a roast that I hope will prove fat; - So I really mustn’t stand gossiping here.— - - PEER. - - And may one inquire, then, what sort of sin-diet - The man has been fattened on? - - THE LEAN ONE. - - I understand - He has been himself both by night and by day, - And that, after all, is the principal point. - - PEER. - - Himself? Then do such folks belong to your parish? - - THE LEAN ONE. - - That depends; the door, at least, stands ajar for them. - Remember, in two ways a man can be - Himself—there’s a right and wrong side to the jacket. - You know they have lately discovered in Paris - A way to take portraits by help of the sun. - One can either produce a straightforward picture - Or else what is known as a negative one. - In the latter the lights and the shades are reversed, - And they’re apt to seem ugly to commonplace eyes; - But for all that the likeness is latent in them, - And all you require is to bring it out. - If, then, a soul shall have pictured itself - In the course of its life by the negative method, - The plate is not therefore entirely cashiered,— - But without more ado they consign it to me. - For ulterior treatment I take it in hand, - And by suitable methods effect its development. - I steam it, I dip it, I burn it, I scour it, - With sulphur and other ingredients like that, - Till the image appears which the plate was designed for,— - That, namely, which people call positive. - But for one who, like you, has smudged himself out, - Neither sulphur nor potash avails in the least. - - PEER. - - I see; one must come to you black as a raven - To turn out a white ptarmigan? Pray what’s the name - Inscribed ’neath the negative counterfeit - That you’re now to transfer to the positive side? - - THE LEAN ONE. - - The name’s Peter[144] Gynt. - - PEER. - - Peter Gynt? Indeed? - Is Herr Gynt himself? - - THE LEAN ONE. - - Yes, he vows he is. - - PEER. - - Well, he’s one to be trusted, that same Herr Peter. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - You know him, perhaps? - - PEER. - - Oh yes, after a fashion;— - One knows all sorts of people. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - I’m pressed for time; - Where saw you him last? - - PEER. - - It was down at the Cape. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - Di Buona Speranza? - - PEER. - - Just so; but he sails - Very shortly again, if I’m not mistaken. - - THE LEAN ONE. - - I must hurry off then without delay. - I only hope I may catch him in time! - That Cape of Good Hope—I could never abide it;— - It’s ruined by missionaries from Stavanger. - [_He rushes off southwards._ - - PEER. - - The stupid hound! There he takes to his heels - With his tongue lolling out. He’ll be finely sold. - It delights me to humbug an ass like that. - He to give himself airs, and to lord it forsooth! - He’s a mighty lot, truly, to swagger about! - He’ll scarcely grow fat at his present trade;— - He’ll soon drop from his perch with his whole apparatus.— - H’m, I’m not over-safe in the saddle either; - I’m expelled, one may say, from self-owning nobility.[145] - [_A shooting star is seen; he nods after it._ - Greet all friends from Peer Gynt, Brother Starry-Flash! - To flash forth, to go out, and be naught at a gulp— - - [_Pulls himself together as though in terror, and goes - deeper in among the mists; stillness for awhile; - then he cries_: - - Is there no one, no one in all the whirl,— - In the void no one, and no one in heaven—! - - [_He comes forward again further down, throws his hat - upon the ground, and tears at his hair. By degrees a - stillness comes over him._ - - So unspeakably poor, then, a soul can go - Back to nothingness, into the grey of the mist. - Thou beautiful earth, be not angry with me - That I trampled thy grasses to no avail. - Thou beautiful sun, thou hast squandered away - Thy glory of light in an empty hut. - There was no one within it to hearten and warm;— - The owner, they tell me, was never at home. - Beautiful sun and beautiful earth, - You were foolish to bear and give light to my mother. - The spirit is niggard and nature lavish; - And dearly one pays for one’s birth with one’s life.— - I will clamber up high, to the dizziest peak; - I will look once more on the rising sun, - Gaze till I’m tired o’er the promised land; - Then try to get snowdrifts piled up over me. - They can write above them: “Here _No One_ lies buried”; - And afterwards,—then——! Let things go as they can. - - CHURCH-GOERS. - [_Singing on the forest path._] - - Oh, morning thrice blest, - When the tongues of God’s kingdom - Struck the earth like to flaming steel! - From the earth to his dwelling - Now the heirs’ song ascendeth - In the tongue of the kingdom of God. - - PEER. - [_Crouches as in terror._] - - Never look there! _there_ all’s desert and waste.— - I fear I was dead long before I died. - - [_Tries to slink in among the bushes, but comes upon the - cross-roads._ - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Good morning, Peer Gynt! Where’s the list of your sins? - - PEER. - - Do you think that I haven’t been whistling and shouting - As hard as I could? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - And met no one at all? - - PEER. - - Not a soul but a tramping photographer. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Well, the respite is over. - - PEER. - - Ay, everything’s over. - The owl smells the daylight. Just list to the hooting! - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - It’s the matin-bell ringing—— - - PEER. - [_Pointing._] - - What’s that shining yonder? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Only light from a hut. - - PEER. - - And that wailing sound——? - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - But a woman singing. - - PEER. - - Ay, there—there I’ll find - The list of my sins—— - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - [_Seizing him._] - - Set your house in order! - - [_They have come out of the underwood, and are standing - near the hut. Day is dawning._ - - PEER. - - Set my house in order? It’s there! Away. - Get you gone! Though your ladle were huge as a coffin, - It were too small, I tell you, for me and my sins. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - - Well, to the third cross-road, Peer; but then——. - [_Turns aside and goes._ - - PEER. - [_Approaches the hut._] - - Forward and back, and it’s just as far. - Out and in, and it’s just as strait. - [_Stops._ - No!—like a wild, an unending lament, - Is the thought: to come back, to go in, to go home. - [_Takes a few steps on, but stops again._ - Round about, said the Boyg! - [_Hears singing in the hut._ - Ah no; this time at least - Right through, though the path may be never so strait! - - [_He runs towards the hut; at the same moment SOLVEIG - appears in the doorway, dressed for church, with a - psalm-book wrapped in a kerchief, and a staff in her - hand. She stands there erect and mild._ - - PEER. - [_Flings himself down on the threshold._] - - Hast thou doom for a sinner, then speak it forth! - - SOLVEIG. - - He is here! He is here! Oh, to God be the praise! - - [_Stretches out her arms as though groping for him._ - - PEER. - - Cry out all my sins and my trespasses! - - SOLVEIG. - - In nought hast thou sinned, oh my own only boy. - [_Gropes for him again, and finds him._ - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER. - [_Behind the house._] - - The sin-list, Peer Gynt? - - PEER. - - Cry aloud my crime! - - SOLVEIG. - [_Sits down beside him._] - - Thou hast made all my life as a beautiful song. - Blessëd be thou that at last thou hast come! - Blessëd, thrice blessëd our Whitsun-morn meeting! - - PEER. - - Then I am lost! - - SOLVEIG. - - There is one that rules all things. - - PEER. - [_Laughs._] - - Lost! Unless thou canst answer riddles. - - SOLVEIG. - - Tell me them. - - PEER. - - Tell them! Come on! To be sure! - Canst thou tell where Peer Gynt has been since we parted? - - SOLVEIG. - - Been? - - PEER. - - With his destiny’s seal on his brow; - Been, as in God’s thought he first sprang forth! - Canst thou tell me? If not, I must get me home,— - Go down to the mist-shrouded regions. - - SOLVEIG. - [_Smiling._] - - Oh, that riddle is easy. - - PEER. - - Then tell what thou knowest! - Where was I, as myself, as the whole man, the true man? - Where was I, with God’s sigil upon my brow? - - SOLVEIG. - - In my faith, in my hope, and in my love.[146] - - PEER. - [_Starts back._] - - What sayest thou——? Peace! These are juggling words. - Thou art mother thyself to the man that’s there. - - SOLVEIG. - - Ay, that I am; but who is his father? - Surely he that forgives at the mother’s prayer. - - PEER. - [_A light shines in his face; he cries_:] - - My mother; my wife; oh, thou innocent woman!— - In thy love—oh, there hide me, hide me! - - [_Clings to her end hides his face in her lap. A long - silence. The sun rises._ - - SOLVEIG. - [_Sings softly._] - - Sleep thou, dearest boy of mine! - I will cradle thee, I will watch thee—— - The boy has been sitting on his mother’s lap. - They two have been playing all the life-day long. - - The boy has been resting at his mother’s breast - All the life-day long. God’s blessing on my joy! - - The boy has been lying close in to my heart - All the life-day long. He is weary now. - - Sleep thou, dearest boy of mine! - I will cradle thee, I will watch thee. - - THE BUTTON-MOULDER’S VOICE. - [_Behind the house._] - - At the last cross-road we will meet again, Peer; - And _then_ we’ll see whether——; I say no more. - - SOLVEIG. - [_Sings louder in the full daylight._] - - I will cradle thee, I will watch thee; - Sleep and dream thou, dear my boy! - - ------ - - Footnotes: - ------ - -Footnote 109: - - Mountains and glaciers. - -Footnote 110: - - Mountains and glaciers. - -Footnote 111: - - So in original. - -Footnote 112: - - “Angst”—literally, “dread” or “terror”—probably means here - something like “conviction of sin.” The influence of the - Danish theologian, Sören Kierkegård, may be traced in this - passage. - -Footnote 113: - - Literally, “Are set on screws.” - -Footnote 114: - - “Tolder,” the biblical “publican.” - -Footnote 115: - - See footnote, p. 95. - -Footnote 116: - - A mountain in the Jotunheim. The name means “glittering peak.” - -Footnote 117: - - “Den tid den sorg”—literally, “That time that sorrow” or - “care.” - -Footnote 118: - - Literally “the bushel.” See note, p. 11. - -Footnote 119: - - See Appendix. - -Footnote 120: - - See footnote, p. 114. - -Footnote 121: - - See footnote, p. 95. - -Footnote 122: - - “Digter”; means also “poet.” - -Footnote 123: - - See footnotes, pp. 29 and 30. - -Footnote 124: - - In the original, “Personlighed”—personality. - -Footnote 125: - - This and the following line, literally translated, run thus: - “Life, as it’s called, has a fox behind its ear. But when one - grasps at him, Reynard takes to his heels.” “To have a fox - behind the ear” is a proverbial expression for insincerity, - double-dealing. - -Footnote 126: - - See footnote, p. 171. - -Footnote 127: - - See footnote, p. 212. - -Footnote 128: - - See Introduction. - -Footnote 129: - - “Pöl,” otherwise “Svovlpöl”—the sulphur pool of hell. - -Footnote 130: - - See footnote, p. 229. - -Footnote 131: - - Literally, “With Peter and Paul.” - -Footnote 132: - - The Royal Mint is at Kongsberg, a town in southern Norway. - -Footnote 133: - - See footnote, p. 218. - -Footnote 134: - - “Hun gik nu for koldt vand og lud”—literally, “to live on cold - water and lye”—to live wretchedly and be badly treated. - -Footnote 135: - - Literally, “Wrote my motto behind your ear.” - -Footnote 136: - - Clearly the troll-substitute for “in black and white.” - -Footnote 137: - - Literally, “On a naked hill.” - -Footnote 138: - - So in original. - -Footnote 139: - - Literally, “the ashes.” - -Footnote 140: - - So in original. - -Footnote 141: - - So in original. - -Footnote 142: - - Literally, “knock out that tooth.” - -Footnote 143: - - “Bra litet rolig.” - -Footnote 144: - - So in original. - -Footnote 145: - - “_Selv_ejer-Adlen.” “Selvejer” (literally, “self-owner”) means - a freeholder, as opposed to a “husmand” or tenant. There is of - course a play upon words in the original. - -Footnote 146: - - “I min Tro, i mit Håb og i min Kjærlighed.” - - We have entirely sacrificed the metre of the line, feeling it - impossible to mar its simplicity by any padding. “Kjærlighed” - also means “charity,” in the biblical sense. - ------ - - THE END. - - - - - APPENDIX. - - -[The stories of Peer Gynt and Gudbrand Glesnë both occur in Asbjörnsen’s -“Reindeer-hunting in the Rondë Hills” (_Norske Huldre-Eventyr og -Folkesagn_, Christiania, 1848). They are told by the peasant guides or -gillies who accompany a shooting-party into the mountains—the first by -Peer Fugleskjelle, the second by Thor Ulvsvolden. Our translation of -Asbjörnsen’s “Peer Gynt” is based on Mr. H. L. Brækstad’s version, -published in _Round the Yule Log_, London, 1881.] - - - PEER GYNT. - -In the old days there lived in Kvam a hunter, whose name was Peer Gynt. -He was always up in the mountains shooting bears and elks; for in those -days there were more forests on the mountains to harbour such wild -beasts. One time, late in the autumn, long after the cattle had been -driven home, Peer set out for the hills. Every one had left the uplands -except three sæter-girls. When Peer came up towards Hövring, where he -was to pass the night in a sæter, it was so dark that he could not see -his fist before him, and the dogs fell to barking and baying so that it -was quite uncanny. All of a sudden he ran against something, and when he -put his hand out he felt it was cold and slippery and big. Yet he did -not seem to have strayed from the road, so he couldn’t think what this -could be; but unpleasant it was at any rate. - -“Who is it?” asked Peer, for he felt it moving. - -“Oh, it’s the Boyg,”[147] was the answer. - -Peer was no wiser for this, but skirted along it for a bit, thinking -that somewhere he must be able to pass. Suddenly he ran against -something again, and when he put out his hand, it too was big, and cold, -and slippery. - -“Who is it?” asked Peer Gynt. - -“Oh, it’s the Boyg,” was the answer again. - -“Well, straight or crooked, you’ll have to let me pass,” said Peer; for -he understood that he was walking in a ring, and that the Boyg had -curled itself round the sæter. Thereupon it shifted a little, so that -Peer got past. When he came inside the sæter, it was no lighter there -than outside. He was feeling along the wall for a place to hang up his -gun and his bag; but as he was groping his way forward he again felt -something cold, and big, and slippery. — “Who is it?” shouted Peer. - -“Oh, it’s the great Boyg,” was the answer. Where-ever he put his hands -out or tried to get past, he felt the Boyg encircling him. - -“It’s not very pleasant to be here,” thought Peer, “since this Boyg is -both out and in; but I think I can make short work of the nuisance.” - -So he took his gun and went out again, groping his way till he found the -creature’s head. - -“What are you?” asked Peer. - -“Oh, I am the big Boyg from Etnedale,” said the Troll-Monster. Peer did -not lose a moment, but fired three shots right into its head. - -“Fire another,” said the Boyg. But Peer knew better; if he had fired -another shot, the bullet would have rebounded against himself. - -Thereupon Peer and his dogs took hold of the Troll-Monster and dragged -him out, so that they could get into the sæter. Meanwhile there was -jeering and laughing in all the hills around. - -“Peer Gynt dragged hard, but the dogs dragged harder,” said a voice. - -Next morning he went out stalking. When he came out on the uplands he -saw a girl, who was calling some sheep up a hillside. But when he came -to the place the girl was gone and the sheep too, and he saw nothing but -a great flock of bears. - -“Well, I never saw bears in a flock before,” thought Peer to himself. -When he came nearer, they had all disappeared except one. - - “Look after your pig: - Peer Gynt is out - with his gun so big,”[148] - -shouted a voice over in a hillock. - -“Oh, it’ll be a bad business for Peer, but not for my pig; for he hasn’t -washed himself to-day,” said another voice in the hill. Peer washed his -hands with the water he had, and shot the bear. There was more laughter -and jeering in the hill. - -“You should have looked after your pig!” cried a voice. - -“I didn’t remember he had a water-jug between his legs,” answered the -other. - -Peer skinned the bear and buried the carcass among the stones, but the -head and the hide he took with him. On his way home he met a fox. - -“Look at my lamb, how fat it is,” said a voice in a hill. - -“Look at that gun[149] of Peer’s, how high it is,” said a voice in -another hill, just as Peer took aim and shot the fox. He skinned the fox -and took the skin with him, and when he came to the sæter he put the -heads on the wall outside, with their jaws gaping. Then he lighted a -fire and put a pot on to boil some soup, but the chimney smoked so -terribly that he could scarcely keep his eyes open, and so he had to set -wide a small window. Suddenly a Troll came and poked his nose in through -the window; it was so long that it reached across the room to the -fireplace. - -“Here’s a proper snout for you to see,” said the Troll. - -“And here’s proper soup for you to taste,” said Peer Gynt; and he poured -the whole potful of soup over the Troll’s nose. The Troll ran away -howling; but in all the hills around there was jeering and laughing and -voices shouting— - -“Soup-snout Gyri! Soup-snout Gyri!” - -All was quiet now for a while; but before long there was a great noise -and hubbub outside again. Peer looked out and saw that there was a cart -there, drawn by bears. They hoisted up the Troll-Monster, and carted him -away into the mountain. Just then a bucket of water came down the -chimney and put out the fire, so that Peer was left in the dark. Then a -jeering and laughing began in all the corners of the room, and a voice -said— - -“It’ll go no better with Peer now than with the sæter-girls at Vala.” - -Peer made up the fire again, took his dogs with him, shut up the house, -and set off northward to the Vala sæter, where the three girls were. -When he had gone some distance he saw such a glare of light that it -seemed to him the sæter must be on fire. Just then he came across a pack -of wolves; some of them he shot, and some he knocked on the head. When -he came to the Vala sæter he found it pitch dark; there was no sign of -any fire; but there were four strangers in the house carrying on with -the sæter-girls. They were four Hill-Trolls, and their names were Gust -of Værë, Tron of the Valfjeld, Tjöstöl Aabakken, and Rolf Eldförpungen. -Gust of Værë was standing at the door to keep watch, while the others -were in with the girls courting. Peer fired at Gust, but missed him, and -Gust ran away. When Peer came inside he found the Trolls carrying on -desperately with the girls. Two of the girls were terribly frightened -and were saying their prayers, but the third, who was called Mad Kari, -wasn’t afraid; she said they might come there for all she cared; she -would like to see what stuff there was in such fellows. But when the -Trolls found that Peer was in the room they began to howl, and told -Eldförpungen to make up the fire. At that instant the dogs set upon -Tjöstöl and pulled him over on his back into the fireplace, so that the -ashes and sparks flew up all round him. - -“Did you see my snakes, Peer?” asked Tron of the Valfjeld—that was what -he called the wolves. - -“You shall go the same way as your snakes,” said Peer, and shot him; and -then he killed Aabakken with the butt-end of his rifle. Eldförpungen had -escaped up the chimney. After this Peer took the girls back to their -homes, for they didn’t dare to stay any longer up at the sæter. - -Shortly before Christmas-time Peer set out again. He had heard of a farm -on the Dovrefjeld which was invaded by such a number of Trolls every -Christmas-eve that the people of the farm had to turn out and get -shelter with some of their neighbours. He was anxious to go there, for -he was very keen upon the Trolls. He dressed himself in some old ragged -clothes, and took with him a tame white bear that he had, as well as an -awl, some pitch, and waxed twine. When he came to the farm he went in -and begged for houseroom. - -“God help us!” said the farmer; “we can’t put you up. We have to clear -out of the house ourselves, for every blessed Christmas-eve the whole -place is full of Trolls.” - -But Peer Gynt said he thought he should be able to clear the house of -Trolls; and then he got leave to stay, and they gave him a pig’s skin -into the bargain. The bear lay down behind the fireplace, and Peer took -out his awl, and pitch, and twine, and set to making a big shoe, that -took the whole pig’s skin. He put a strong rope in for laces, so that he -could pull the shoe tight together at the top; and he had a couple of -handspikes ready. - -All of a sudden the Trolls came, with a fiddle and a fiddler; some began -dancing, while others fell to eating the Christmas fare on the table; -some fried bacon, and some fried frogs and toads, and other disgusting -things: these were the Christmas dainties they had brought with them. In -the meantime some of the Trolls found the shoe Peer had made; they -thought it must be for a very big foot. Then they all wanted to try it -on; and when each of them had put a foot into it, Peer tightened the -rope, shoved one of the handspikes into it, and twisted it up till they -were all stuck fast in the shoe. - -Just then the bear put his nose out and smelt the fry. - -“Will you have a sausage, white pussy?” said one of the Trolls, and -threw a red-hot frog right into the bear’s jaws. - -“Claw and smite Bruin!” said Peer Gynt. - -And then the bear got into such a rage that he rushed at the Trolls and -smote and clawed them all, and Peer Gynt took the other handspike and -hammered away at them as if he wanted to beat their brains out. So the -Trolls had to clear out, and Peer stayed and enjoyed himself on the -Christmas cheer the whole feast-time. After that the Trolls were not -heard of again for many years. The farmer had a light-coloured mare, and -Peer advised him to breed from her, and let her foals in their turn run -and breed among the hills there. - -Many years afterwards, about Christmas-time, the farmer was out in the -forest cutting wood for the feast-time, when a Troll came towards him -and shouted— - -“Have you got that big white pussy of yours yet?” - -“Yes, she’s at home behind the stove,” said the farmer; “and she’s got -seven kittens now, much bigger and fiercer than herself.” - -“We’ll never come to you any more, then,” shouted the Troll. - -“That Peer Gynt was a strange one,” said Anders. “He was such an -out-and-out tale-maker and yarn-spinner, you couldn’t have helped -laughing at him. He always made out that he himself had been mixed up in -all the stories that people said had happened in the olden times.” - - - GUDBRAND GLESNË. - -“There was a hunter in the West-Hills,” said Thor Ulvsvolden, “called -Gudbrand Glesnë. He was married to the grandmother of the lad you saw at -the sæter yesterday evening, and a first-rate hunter they say he was. -One autumn he came across a huge buck. He shot at it, and from the way -it fell he couldn’t tell but that it was stone dead. So he went up to -it, and, as one often does, seated himself astride on its back, and was -just drawing his knife to cleave the neck-bone from the skull. But no -sooner had he sat down than up it jumped, threw its horns back, and -jammed him down between them, so that he was fixed as in an arm-chair. -Then it rushed away; for the bullet had only grazed the beast’s head, so -that it had fallen in a swoon. Never any man had such a ride[150] as -that Gudbrand had. Away they went in the teeth of the wind, over the -ugliest glaciers and moraines. Then the beast dashed along the -Gjende-edge; and now Gudbrand prayed to the Lord, for he thought he -would never see sun or moon again. But at last the reindeer took to the -water and swam straight across with the hunter on its back. By this time -he had got his knife drawn, and the moment the buck set foot on shore, -he plunged it into its neck, and it dropped dead. But you may be sure -Gudbrand Glesnë wouldn’t have taken that ride again, not for all the -riches in the world. - -“I have heard a story like that in England, about a deer-stalker that -became a deer-rider,” said Sir Tottenbroom.[151] - -“Bliecher, in Jutland, tells a similar one,” I said. - -“But what sort of a place was this Gjender-edge you spoke of, Thor?” he -interrupted me. - -“Gjende-edge, you mean?” asked Thor. “It’s the ridge[152] of a mountain -lying between the Gjende-lakes, and so horribly narrow and steep that if -you stand on it and drop a stone from each hand, they will roll down -into the lakes, one on each side. The reindeer-hunters go over it in -fine weather, otherwise it’s impassable; but there was a devil of a -fellow up in Skiager—Ole Storebråten was his name—who went over it -carrying a full-sized reindeer on his shoulders.” - -“How high is it above the lakes?” asked Sir Tottenbroom. - -“Oh, it’s not nearly so high as the Rondë-hills,” said Thor. “But it’s -over seven hundred ells high.” - - ------ - -Footnotes: - ------ - -Footnote 147: - - See footnote, p. xxvi. - -Footnote 148: - - Literally, “with his tail.” A gun loosely slung over the shoulder - bears a certain resemblance to a tail sticking up in the air. - -Footnote 149: - - Literally, “tail.” - -Footnote 150: - - “Skyds”—conveyance. - -Footnote 151: - - An English sportsman who accompanied Asbjörnsen on his rambles. - -Footnote 152: - - “Rygge”—backbone, _arête_. - ------ - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - Transcriber’s Note - -There are quite a few instances of missing punctuation. The conventional -period following the character’s name is sometimes missing and has been -added for consistency’s sake without further comment. Those missing from -setting and stage direction are also added without comment, since there -is no obvious purpose to be served by the omission. However, the -restoration of punctuation missing from dialogue is noted below, since -the punctuation is frequently expressive. - -Volume I of this series included errata for each succeeding volume. -Some, but not all, of the corrections indicated there had been made -before the printing employed here. Those that remained unchanged have -been corrected here, and noted as such. - -Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, -and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the -original. - - 14.8 something really grand[.] Added. - - 14.13 Who knows what may befall one[?] Added. - - 21.12 You beast[!] Added. - - 22.23 I’ll be heaven high[.] Added. - - 25.10 Oh, let them chatter[?/.] Replaced. - - 26.23 Up with you, Peer, my lad[.] Added. - - 33.4 Wherever he goes there is silence[;] Added. - - 47.26 for a carcase like his[.] Added. - - 48.26 With the bride[.] Added. - - 54.27 roll down to bewilder him[!] Added. - - 66.11 You’re a king’s son[?] Added. - - 67.24 with us it[’]s precisely the same. Inserted. - - 71.21 [“]Man, be thyself!” Added. - - 72.24 fly off with your home-brewed drinks[!] Added. - - 82.6 Let go will you, beast[!] Added. - - 83.3 Mother, help me, I die[!] Added. - - 84.29 the one only one[.] Added. - - 96.2 tempted my poor boy astray[!] Added. - - 97.17 I fear it’s a sin[.] Added. - - 122.6 Yes, gentlemen, [comp[elety/letely] clear Replaced. - - 122.31 Those noble-trolls[.] Added. - - 125.21 Dear friends[,] Added. - - 127.28 Well, but the African commod[it]ies? Probably. - - 140.15 Since [though] art so wise _sic_: Thou? - - 148.1 here are ferns growing—edible roots[.] Added. - - 148.12 the Lord let[’]s lets me keep Removed. - - 157.35 Tender, shrinking little hearts[.] Added. - - 164.22 Your Emperor I am[!] Added. - - 164.32 loved to this pitch[!] Added. - - 165.31 Hearts tha[n/t] can love Replaced, - per Errata. - - 168.36 sober and wakeful.[”] Added. - - 172.7 It[’]s secular traces Removed. - - 175.19 A man[!] Added. - - 181.9 out of his skin[!] Added. - - 182.23 fathomed the Sphinx’s meaning[!] Added. - - 191.9 Pray do not sputter[.] Added. - - 191.18 a fate-guided pen[.] Added. - - 197.21 a dram to their supper[.] Added. - - 199.29 A wreck a-lee[!] Added. - - 206.3 to make it come quicker[.] Added. - - 209.11 His hand[s] slips; Removed. - - 220.16 Twopence for the pedlar’s pack[!] Added. - - 221.28 on Christmas Eve[.] Added. - - 226.8 _Man mus[s] sich drappiren_ Added, per - Errata. - - 229.34 [“]Life, as it’s called, Restored. - - 231.29 The worm has gnawed us[.] Added. - - 233.23 With the switch from the cupboard[.] Added. - - 248.8 You’re welcome[,] Peer. Added. - - 250.26 It[’]s name shall be Removed. - - 264.7 if I’m not mistaken[.] Added. - - 267.23 for me and my sins[.] Added. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COLLECTED WORKS OF HENRIK -IBSEN VOL. 04 (OF 11) *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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